Stupid, Slutty Blaine
by MerryH
Summary: "Come to think of it, Blaine had been being reaaaaaal friendly to a lot of people lately." Kurt is pissed, and it's about time Blaine got told off for his behaviour. Blaine, however, never meant to hurt him. Written Post!WIGYA.
1. Anger

Hey everybody! So this was _meant_ be a simple little oneshot but I got such a fantastic response from it that it's now turned into a series. I really hope you enjoy it.

Written for a prompt over at the kurt_blaine livejournal comm from musiclover48:

"Kurt had finally had it with Blaine serenading anything with two legs and something between said legs. So when they get back to Dalton, he cracks and goes off on Blaine in front of all the Warblers by saying (in an Emma-like state): "You're a slut, Blaine. You're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut! Everybody should know that, and you should know that I'm through with you."

Enjoy!

* * *

He couldn't believe what he'd seen.

After everything that had gone on between them – the flirting, stolen glances, - _my god_ – Kurt realized with a start, the duet at _Christmas_ - Did Blaine really think that he could prance around serenading boys after he'd looked at Kurt like that?

Sitting between Wes and David in the Dalton common room, surrounded by Warblers who were all laughing and jostling around him, still buzzing from their _very_ public performance, he thought back on the past two hours. When Blaine had asked him to do him a favour, he'd thought it'd maybe be some roundabout ploy of telling Kurt he had feelings for _him_ – not feelings for a homeless worker at GAP! Of all places. GAP. The second he walked in the store he lost a little bit of respect for Blaine entirely. Not to mention stupid GAP boy, with his ridiculous hair and his generic ugly, stupid, ugly, ridiculous, stupid hoodie! This boy _clearing _knew nothing about fashion, and there was stupid Blaine, perfectly happy chasing him down and dancing around him mentioning things about sex toys and drawers and rubbing up on people.

Here he was, practically _springing_ around this random dude, who Kurt had never heard about, after he'd spent weeks sending Kurt signals, and sitting close to him, and touching his knee, and singing at him, and basically saying what Kurt _thought_ was "Hey, I like you." in every other medium except actually _vocalizing_ it. Now, he was chasing some dude who apparently had no idea who he was! Come to think of it, memories begun to spring to mind of Kurt running into Blaine in the hallways with Jack, having spirited conversations where Blaine would slip in a subtle wink or two, but Kurt had convinced himself Blaine was just trying to be friendly. Come to think of it, Blaine had been being _reaaaaaal_ friendly to a lot of people lately. Jack, and then there was that time in the commons with Liam, when Blaine had plucked an eyelash gently from his face, and Kurt had felt a little surge of jealousy go through him. Then – then there was that time with Keenan, and Mark, and then -

Oh my god. _Oh my GOD. _Blaine was a _slut_!

Kurt gave a slightly disgusted half-snort at himself for not realizing it before and Wes gave him a look, confused concern on his face.

"You okay Kurt?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond until he saw the doors to the common room swing open, with stupid, smarmy, _slutty_ Blaine standing at the top of the stairs. The Warblers all looked up at him, eager to know how the serenade had ended up, as they had been told beforehand to make themselves relatively scarce as soon as the song was finished.

Blaine stepped forward quietly until a smug look appeared on his face. He raised his receipt in the air and let out a very, _very_ self-satisfied yelp of, "Got his number!", before punching the air above him.

The Warblers exploded into cheers, with Blaine getting a few slaps on the back as he made his way towards the couch to sit next to Kurt.

Kurt was furious. Blaine sat down, slapping the receipt on the table and sat back, swinging his arms arrogantly across the back of the couch. The Warblers chatter quickly turned to Blaine, as they asked him question after question about what he had said, and what had happened, and was he going to call him. It was like being surrounded by teenage girls, but burlier. Kurt sat there silently, staring at the table, fuming, wondering how on earth he had fallen for it all.

He felt Blaine poke him from the side, once, then twice.

"Hey, what's the matter? You're not happy for me."

Kurt whirled his head around to stare at Blaine, who was pouting, and that was it. Kurt snapped.

"Happy for you?" He screeched. "Happy for _you_?"

He leapt to his feet as Blaine's face turned from mock sadness to literal fear, and the Warblers went silent.

"Kurt? I don't understand, wha- what did I do?"

Kurt had taken three steps towards the door until he couldn't take it anymore. He wheeled around, his face contorted with anger.

"What did you do? Are you that clueless Blaine? My god! You spend weeks, _weeks_ flirting with me and then you turn around and chase after some random dude in a clothing store? It wasn't even a good store! Not to mention the fact that you've probably hit on half the population of the goddamn school! I thought you were wonderful Blaine, I really did, but you want to know what you _really _are, Blaine? You want to know? You're a slut!"

Blaine was staring at him in shock and while half of the Warblers looked concerned, the other half were trying to stifle giggles at the accusation. Blaine went to open his mouth to speak but Kurt beat him to it.

"You. Are. A. Slut." Kurt punctuated each word with a finger, jabbing in Blaine's direction.

"You slutted around, hitting on me, and then you slutted around, hitting on other people at Dalton, and then when you ran out of people _here_, you ran along to the shopping center and hit on the first guy you saw! In song!" Kurt yelled incredulously. Half of the Warblers were openly laughing now as Blaine stood up shakily to make his way towards Kurt.

"No! No. Don't even move, you'll probably infect everyone with your slutty germs!"

Blaine looked at Kurt as if he had absolutely no idea what was going on, but Kurt relished the fact that he was finally starting to look slightly embarrassed for his actions.

"You are a slut, a whore – you may as well be a goddamn _lady of the night _for all I care, because there is no way you are _ever_ coming near me again. You're a slut, Blaine. You're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut! Everybody should know that, and you should know that I'm through with you."

Kurt finished, breathless, before turning on his heel and storming out of the room, leaving Blaine staring after him in complete and utter shock.

Kurt had to smile when he heard a whoop from the Warblers as they exploded into cheers and claps, and Kurt could've sworn he heard a "You go, Hummel!"

Kurt just grinned to himself, whispering under his breath as he strode tall down the hallway, _"The bitch is back."_


	2. Stupidity

**A/N: **Holy crap! The support I had for the first part of this story, which was meant to just be a short fill for a prompt and just a simple oneshot, was so amazing that I couldn't not continue it. You guys have been absolutely fantastic and I really loved your enthusiasm for the entire story. I know some people were a little upset with Kurt going on such a rampage at Blaine but I think he was just furious and I wanted to give a little more backstory to what he had been experiencing, and I also don't think the Warblers were necessarily agreeing with Kurt when they cheered - it was more out of amusement and love for this new bitch!Kurt that suddenly appeared. This isn't meant to be canon with what we've seen so far - I've changed up the context a fair bit.

I decided to write a part from Blaine's point of view, because I love his character and I think there's so much more to him than the surface character we've been given so far, and I couldn't help letting my headcanon into this story. I will be continuing this story, there may just be one more part or I may make a few more, I'm not sure yet, it just depends on how inspired I am! I hope you guys really like it, thank you so much for everything! Also, please check out the video that complexlysimplekiddo made for the first part! It's amazing! 3 TY BB!  
http: / www. youtube. com/ watch?v=ZIpzFXGVFmw

Enjoy!

* * *

Blaine was unbelievably frustrated. Not in a sexual kind of way - well, maybe slightly, he was a teenage boy - but for the most part, he was just frustrated that for the first time when there was someone he genuinely wanted to be with _so_ badly, he wasn't allowed to have him.

It had come to the point that he had stood in front of the mirror, pointing to himself and saying "Mentor" and pointing to a picture he had of Kurt and saying "Friend", over and over, as if by saying it a thousand times would drill it into his brain. It usually just ended with him flopping on his bed and just staring at the picture for a little while.

It was so hard to not touch him when he was in the room, to not look at him too much, to not flirt too much, and he felt himself overstepping boundary after boundary just because he desperately needed to be close to Kurt, when he knew what Kurt really needed was a friend, someone to help him get his confidence back and get back to being happy with everything he was again.

He had to stop. He needed to make an executive decision. Time to become cool, collected Blaine and distract himself from everything that Kurt was. The only way he could think to do this – distract himself with as many guys as he can. Kurt wasn't ready for the relationship that Blaine wanted, not so soon after Karofsky and from the things Blaine had heard from Mercedes from his occasional text messages to her when he was worried about Kurt, Kurt was usually kind of a diva. He hadn't shown any of that yet, hadn't shown any anger past being slightly pissed off that he hadn't gotten the solo. He didn't want Kurt to think he had to pretend, to be someone else, like Blaine had been for so long. He wanted Kurt to be as confident as he possibly could be, and maybe the distractions would help him stop seeing Kurt as the most beautiful person he'd ever met, and allow Kurt to become stronger – be the person he was meant to be.

See, when Blaine had come up with this plan, it had all seemed incredibly practical. Blaine was one for practical. His time at Dalton had drilled this into his brain – be practical, logical, and hardworking - things will turn out perfectly. However, if Blaine had thought this through for about five more minutes, he might have realized the _truly _logical idea would be to just _talk_ to Kurt. Oops.

He had spent the next few weeks flirting with guys, trying to distract himself with shiny hair and cute smiles - but every single time he saw Kurt, he couldn't help his attention being ripped away. He had to do something bigger, to _commit_ himself to something. He'd always operated through music, so what better thing to do than find a relationship with someone _outside_ Dalton. Someone who he didn't know much about, someone who he could maybe pretend would be half as amazing as Kurt.

That was where the plan for When I Get You Alone came from. He rallied the Warblers to help him out and had sung away in his room, feeling himself get a little flushed as his mind would wander to the idea of chasing Kurt down with the song, but he quickly shook himself back to attention.

"The plan. Stick to the plan." He told himself, before launching back into the second verse.

When the day came, he _tried _to give the song his all. He was used to absolutely attacking every single song he was given, giving it everything he had – releasing every emotion he felt about everything in his life. But the entire time, all he could feel Kurt's eyes trained on him. He could feel his every move, his mind unintentionally hooked on where Kurt was in the room at all times. He momentarily considered grabbing a hoodie with a particularly sharp zipper and just stabbing himself until he had a grisly, slow, painful escape.

But he was Blaine, and he was arrogant, and he was dapper, and he had to be confident about this otherwise he was going to be stuck pining after Kurt forever. Kurt needed the freedom to be himself, to grow – he didn't need a boyfriend right now, and as much as Blaine didn't like to admit it – he liked flirting, and if he wasn't allowed to flirt with Kurt, well, he was going to flirt with other less cute, less angelic boys.

When he finished the song, suspending the socks in front of GAP boys face (cute, not quite as soft looking as Kurt's, but kind of baby-faced and similar enough for Blaine to find him relatively adorable) he felt the Warblers disappear behind him and focused all his attention on the boy in front of him.

"Um, wow. No one has really sung a song for me before. Certainly not with back-up, in the middle of a store, in the middle of the day. It'd be er, cute, if it wasn't so creepy."

Blaine's smile faltered slightly, and he dropped the socks onto the bench, ready to turn away, when he spoke again, swiping the socks gently through the register.

"_But_, at the same time, it was kind of cool. Creepy, really creepy, you should work on that, but cool. Look – here's my number. Give me a call sometime and – don't sing a song about it in the phone. I'm not ready for that yet."

He smiled slightly at Blaine, scribbling his name (Sebastian) and his number (1-614-387-4142) before sliding the receipt over to him. Blaine blinked at it once, twice, and then looked up at Sebastian. He smiled.

Blaine was semi-miserable driving back to Dalton. Sure, the guy was cute, but he still felt that twist in his gut every time he thought of Kurt. At the same time though, he was pretty proud that he had gotten a random guys number. It was nice feeling, the fact that he could do that, like guys were actually interested in him. Like any other teenage boy, he wanted to feel wanted, and you know, he was kind of insecure about himself – especially his stupid bush-rat hair that he had to gel into submission every morning, so it was nice to know that someone found him at least somewhat attractive. It just would've been nicer if the _someone_ that found him _somewhat_ attractive were Kurt. He shook it off, turning into Dalton's car park and sliding into a spot. He parked, and began to bang his head against the wheel a few times.

"I" –slam-

"Hate" –slam-

"This" –slam-

It was only when he accidentally honked the horn and jumped, nearly hitting the roof of the car that he decided he should probably get out and face the Warblers. He had made such a huge deal about how important this was to him, and he had to keep playing that role. Otherwise he was screwed. Wes and David would be able to tell instantly if he so much as faltered about how happy he was. He hadn't told them anything about his feelings for Kurt, because he knew if he did, it would make them realer than they already were, and then they would talk to Kurt, or drop hints, and things would just become even more complicated than they already were. He knew they had been suspicious, so the distractions had been as much for them as they were for him.

He strode towards the Dalton common room, receipt clutched in his hand, and stopped at the doors. He took a deep breath before he pushed the doors open, a neutral look plastered on his face. He felt the Warblers all glance up at him, eager and waiting. He stepped forward gingerly, then raised the receipt in the air and yelled with a grin, "Got his number!"

He punched the air as the Warblers started clapping and laughing and cheering. Blaine was pleased. It was always nice, the way they supported him, and were cheering him on, uncaring that he'd sung an incredibly suggestive song to a _dude_.

He spotted Kurt immediately, wedged on the couch, Wes on one side and a small gap next to him, then David sitting on the edge of the couch grinning and clapping. He made a beeline for the gap, his legs moving before his brain told him "bad idea, the plan remember, stick to the plan, keep far away, damnit!" He felt a few of the Warblers smack him on the back in approval and he flopped down next to Kurt, swinging his arms over the back of the couch.

The Warblers started to explode with questions, and Blaine answered them paying little attention to what he was actually saying or being asked, yes, he'd thought it was cute (albeit creepy, but Blaine left that part out for fear of embarrassment), he had just written his number, yes he was going to call him, yes, he agreed he was good-looking, and _no, _David_,_ he didn't leap over the counter to jump the dude and make "sweet GAP love."

The entire time though, he could feel Kurt, almost buzzing at his side. He had his arms folded over one another and he wasn't looking at Blaine. He was a little taken aback – he thought Kurt would've maybe been happy for him. After all, they were meant to be good friends, and yeah maybe he might've led Kurt on a little bit, but he had never meant to, he just couldn't help himself, and he didn't mean to make him angry by hitting on GAP b- Sebastian. It was just a way of making sure that Kurt was able to grow for himself, without Blaine being the boyfriend to be all and save all, which quite frankly intimidated the hell out of Blaine, because he was really not a perfect guy. He was kind of stupid sometimes, and he was never very good at maths, and he had a bit of a temper, and god, so much more. He was just a guy, with the same problems as everyone else. Sometimes Kurt looked at him like he was perfect, and it scared Blaine. He didn't ever want to disappoint Kurt. At the same time though, this didn't quite seem like he was angry about Sebastian– it almost seemed like he was furious about something else entirely.

He couldn't not know. He poked him gently in the side.

"Hey, what's the matter? You're not happy for me." He pouted, giving his best puppy dog eyes at Kurt, but almost jumped at the fury in Kurt's eyes when he whirled his head around to face him.

"Happy for you?" Kurt screeched. "Happy for _you_?"

Kurt jumped to his feet in front of him and began to storm out the door, the rooms chatter dying down instantly as the raised voice frightened everyone. Blaine was a little scared himself – he'd never seen Kurt so angry.

"Kurt? I don't understand, wha- what did I do?"

He watched Kurt walking towards the door until he stopped, pivoting around to face Blaine, glaring so hard that Blaine felt like he might just explode into flames at any minute.

"What did you do? Are you that clueless Blaine? My god! You spend weeks, _weeks_ flirting with me and then you turn around and chase after some random dude in a clothing store? It wasn't even a good store! Not to mention the fact that you've probably hit on half the population of the goddamn school! I thought you were wonderful Blaine, I really did, but you want to know what you _really _are, Blaine? You want to know? You're a slut!"

As Kurt yelled at him, Blaine realized what a complete idiot he had been. Kurt was right – he had been a bit of a slut, but he had never _meant_ to be. He had no idea what to say, how to explain to Kurt that it was all a misunderstanding, he didn't really care about Sebastian, he cared about Kurt, because from the way it had been orchestrated – it didn't look like a misunderstanding at all, unless you were in Blaine's crazy mind. He stared at Kurt, shocked and a little hurt, because even if he _didn't_ have feelings for Kurt, it still hurts to hear your best friend call you a slut – even if it is kind of true. He heard some of the Warblers start to giggle behind him, and he felt his eyes sting slightly at the embarrassment of everything he had done. He went to open his mouth to speak but Kurt cut him off.

"You. Are. A. Slut." Kurt punctuated each word with a finger, jabbing in Blaine's direction, each one feeling like a jab directly to the heart. This was the last thing he had wanted. He had thought maybe Kurt would become a little more independent if Blaine did all of this, come into his own a little more, but he had never thought it would've made Kurt furious. He should've known, if the tables had been turned he would've been just as angry, but stupid Blaine, going by his stupid ideas of logic, had _logically_ thought that Kurt would react in a _logical_ way – not realizing that this was a situation composed completely of emotion for both of them, emotions which had clouded Blaine in the first place. He tried to stay composed as Kurt continued, his words sharp.

"You slutted around, hitting on me, and then you slutted around, hitting on other people at Dalton, and then when you ran out of people _here_, you ran along to the shopping center and hit on the first guy you saw! In song!"

Blaine could hear some of the boys openly cracking up now, thinking this was one of the funniest things they'd ever seen because – let's face it – Dalton didn't exactly get much drama what with the anti-bullying policy. If he was watching it, he probably would've been laughing too. There was always good natured teasing and being human, there were fights between friends, but they were _never_ this public and never ever this _direct_, and honest, and full of unbridled… rage. He stood up awkwardly, scared to step towards Kurt but willing himself to anyway. He froze after Kurt's next words.

"No! No. Don't even move, you'll probably infect everyone with your slutty germs!"

He'd managed to keep a relatively straight face as Kurt had yelled at him, trying not to focus too much on the words, but he could feel the embarrassment creeping over his face. He'd rather show that then show how hurt he actually was because he felt like if he focused on it for one minute, if he focused on how stupid he had been, he would burst into tears, and doing so in a room full of guys is practically a teasing death-wish that Blaine just wasn't ready for. He had no idea how it had come to this, and he flinched slightly as Kurt turned on him again.

"You are a slut, a whore – you may as well be a goddamn _lady of the night _for all I care, because there is no way you are _ever_ coming near me again. You're a slut, Blaine. You're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut! Everybody should know that, and you should know that I'm through with you."

Kurt finished, breathless, before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Blaine just stared at the back of him, his fingers lacing together and twisting out of habit whenever he was anxious. He heard the Warblers explode into cheers and claps behind him, and he distinctly heard Ben yell "You go, Hummel!"

The doors slammed shut and the Warblers sound died down, and Blaine didn't know whether to turn around or run. _Well_, he thought, _at least he's finally gotten angry about something. I just wish I wasn't the cause of it._

"Well," David said, clearing his throat, a giggle escaping, "That was… intense."

Blaine resisted the urge to turn around and explode at all of them, instead rushing towards the door, ignoring the catcalls from behind him, to try and follow Kurt. He felt horrible, and he clenched his eyes shut to stop any tears that had started to form from coming to fruition. He pushed through the doors to follow Kurt, but the long hallway was empty, and the front door to Dalton swung wide open.

* * *

So there you have it. I really don't think Blaine would have intentionally wanted to hurt Kurt, I think he's just kind of a clueless idiot sometimes and he probably does a lot of stupid things thinking they're a good thing at the time. He's always cared about Kurt and I could see him doing something like this thinking it was a good idea, and I also wanted to redeem him a little because I really do like his character and definitely think Klaine is endgame, no matter what. Next part should be up in a couple of days. I hope you guys enjoyed it and it wasn't too all over the place!


	3. Runaway

**A/N:** Again, I have to thank each and every one of you for the response this story has been getting. I've never really attempted a series and actually finished it or published it in years, I had one forever ago that I never finished and I had another I never finished and never published, but you guys have absolutely motivated me to keep going with this one, and there's a lot more coming out of my head than I could've ever expected to be possible, and that's thanks to all of you. I'm sorry this part took so long to get up, I've been pretty busy, but the next one should be up by Saturday night Australian EST, maybe even sooner. I really hope you enjoy it. I've decided to keep up with the concept of having each chapter flick between Kurt and Blaine's point of view - whether that changes in the future I don't know. You may see some scenes/situations from just Kurt or Blaine's P.O.V or from both, it all depends, and scenes such as the one below will detail everything happening - not just to Kurt, if you get what I mean. I felt like it was important to see what Mercedes would think about all of this. I'm going to stop rambling now, I hope you enjoy it, and if anyone could confirm exactly the type of car Kurt has that would be fantastic! Enjoy!

* * *

"…and so I stormed out, got straight into my car and started driving. I didn't stop to call you until I was about halfway to Lima."

Kurt licked his spoon clean of the froth that had topped his hot chocolate, glancing up at Mercedes as he placed it on the plate. It clinked slightly and he crossed his arms in front of him, a classic Kurt defence mechanism that let Mercedes know he was really not doing so well.

"Wow, Kurt. That's pretty crazy, even for you." Mercedes smiled at him gently, her hands cupping the drink she was holding for warmth. She sipped at it slightly, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

"I mean, you're not the type to just explode at people unless something is really bothering you, like that time with Mr Schue, but I never thought you would've yelled at Blaine like that, after all…."

Kurt zoned out slightly, shrugging and look past her, surveying the little café they were sitting in. It was cosy; the kind of place Kurt would have taken Blaine if it weren't for the whole "him being a giant whore" issue. He felt slightly sick, his stomach twisting. The entire drive back to Lima had given him enough time to think about everything that had happened back at Dalton. He found himself thinking less about the fight and more about the entire relationship, kicking himself for believing for a moment that someone might actually chase him for once, only have eyes for him. Didn't he deserve that by now?

He had gone over and over all the things that had gone on in his head – meeting Blaine, how incredible he had been, how he'd always been there for him, and then the sudden switch - him being standoffish, then flirty, then flirty with what seemed to be everyone _but_ Kurt. He didn't understand it, but the more he thought about it he found himself less upset, and more furious.

The _one_ time when it seemed like things might actually work out for him. The _one_ time when he liked someone who was _actually_ gay and therefore not completely unattainable, and he couldn't have him, because Blaine decided that he had to have _everyone_.

Kurt shook himself slightly. He refused to dwell on this. He'd tried so hard to be this quiet perfect person for Blaine, to try and compare to the person Blaine was – correction, the person he'd thought Blaine was. How was that right? If Blaine really cared, wouldn't he have tried less to show him how to fit in and more about how it was okay to finally be himself?

He hadn't shown any of his anger, he'd reined in his diva attitude to try and fit in with the Warblers, and he hadn't made a satisfying bitch-face at anyone in far too long. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't had the chance to sing a solo in forever, and he had all this built up tension and resentment about so many things. The only thing he'd really shown to Blaine was his fear, his weaknesses. He had _so_ many strengths and they had all been pushed aside so that Kurt could feel like he "fit in" enough for Blaine to notice him, which was the most ridiculous concept ever in retrospect.

Kurt felt angry then, but not only at Blaine, but at himself. He'd let himself disappear, disappear into the person he loved when at the end of the day what he really needed, what he _deserved_, was for somebody to love the person that he truly was. Didn't he come to Dalton for exactly that reason? To be truly accepted?

"Kurt? Hello, Earth to Kurt?"

Kurt glanced up at Mercedes, who was staring pointedly at him, an eyebrow raised. She had pushed her drink to the side and her hands were clasped together on the table in front of her, her bracelets letting off occasional jingling noises as they clashed against the table each time she moved.

"Sorry." Kurt said, biting his lip slightly. "I guess I tuned out a little."

"Yeah, you could say that. I just wanted to know what you're going to do now."

"I don't know," Kurt admitted, glancing away from Mercedes who hadn't stopped looking straight at him, her face concerned. He appreciated that about her, as much as it annoyed him sometimes. She always knew when he wasn't being honest so there was no point trying to lie to her, because with one look she could get him talking and saying things he hadn't even realised he'd been feeling. He hesitated, trying not to spill out the thousands of thoughts that had been burrowing into the far corners of his brain for the past few hours all at the same time.

"I can't forgive him. Not anytime soon, anyway. He has no excuse for the way he behaved. He can't think that he can treat me this way and I'll turn around and ignore all the hurt and be his best friend still. I know he's always been there for me and I appreciate that, but this just isn't right. I'm sick of being the underdog, Mercedes. I miss the old me, and I miss not caring about some stupid boy who obviously at the end of the day doesn't deserve me."

Mercedes nodded quickly and was about to speak when she saw Kurt pull a buzzing iPhone from his pocket. She watched quietly as he glanced at the screen, trying to remain expressionless, and switched it to silent, placing it face down on the table.

"Kurt?" She asked, her voice gentle. "How many times has he called?"

Kurt blushed despite himself, keeping his head down. "12 times, plus 16 texts. I haven't read any of the texts. I need to stay angry for a little while longer, otherwise I'm too likely to just forgive him."

Mercedes reached out and picked up the phone from the table, unlocking it by punching in Kurt's code. She was the only one who knew that it was the day and month his mother was born.

"Can I…?" Mercedes trailed off, and Kurt nodded at her, half smiling.

"I'm going to go and get another drink. I think I definitely need a coffee before I head back seeing as I have school tomorrow." He tapped the table with his nails before he spoke again. "I wish I'd just come home for the weekend rather than agreeing to help Blaine. Maybe I'd have saved myself some embarrassment."

Mercedes watched him shrug and stand up from the table, striding back towards the register to order. She had to smile at his grace, the way he carried himself gently, but with a quiet strength, and how even his Dalton uniform had tiny touches of the Kurt she knew from McKinley. A badge on his lapel, his tie slightly shorter than how the rest of the boys usually wore it. She could understand how she'd had a crush on him at one point, even though the idea was more than laughable now.

She jumped slightly as her attention was ripped from Kurt to the phone that was now buzzing in her hand, the bright red 16 next to messages changing to 17 as the new message popped up onscreen.

_**Kurt, please. Just answer your phone or text me back. I need to talk to you.**_

She clicked reply and the phone opened the message screen for Blaine. It was filled with white text messages, not a speck of green in reply. There were timestamps ranging from just now, to around three hours ago, which Mercedes suspected was when Kurt had just gotten in the car.

_**Kurt, you don't understand. Let me explain.**_

_**P**__**lease just answer your phone?**_

_**I'm so sorry if I hurt you, I never meant to.**__** You mean a lot to me Kurt.**_

_**I hope you're not mad at me. Just call me back, okay?**_

_**I'm such an idiot Kurt. Please give me a chance.**_

They went on in a similar vein and Mercedes was nearly flinching at how desperate the boy was for any kind of contact from Kurt. It didn't make sense! None of it did. Blaine was a smart boy, wasn't he? How come he was being such an idiot? He had to have known how Kurt felt about him. Mercedes couldn't help pulling out her own phone, bringing up the number she had only texted a few times before.

_You're in big trouble, white boy._

She glanced around furtively; making sure Kurt was still waiting for his drink. He seemed to be having an animated conversation with the barista while he waited, who was smiling gently at Kurt as he worked with the coffee machine. It seemed like she'd just pressed send when her phone buzzed in response.

_**Mercedes, thank god. Are you with him?**_

_You are not in any position to be asking questions right now._

_**I'm guessing he's told you everything. I didn't mean to hurt him; I swear to god, I would never. I'm still so confused about everything that happened. Is he mad? Is he upset?**_

_He's fine, Blaine, really. Not that it's any of your business._

_**He's fine? Oh. Can you tell him I want to see him when he gets back?**_

_Look, this may be between the two of you, but you have really, really screwed up, and I refuse to sit around and let you hurt him because I cannot handle helping that boy pick up the pieces when his life is crapped on all over again. Good luck getting him to see you Blaine. I liked you, really, but this is just NOT OKAY, and Kurt's my boy. I'm not letting anything happen to him, and at this point, I. Am. Watching. You._

_**I understand. I'm sorry, Mercedes. **_

Mercedes was about to tap out a response when she saw a Styrofoam cup slap down on the table in front of her. Kurt's chair squeaked as he pulled it out and sat down, his eyes slightly wide.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

Mercedes dropped her phone into her lap, not wanting Kurt to see that she'd talked to Blaine in case it pissed him off. A part of her was just insanely curious as to why he had done it, considering the fact that he'd always seemed so interested in Kurt, like he really cared about him more than a friend, even though Kurt would always deny Mercedes suspicions, she knew he thought so too. Blaine would text her about how worried he was about him (really, really worried) or asking what his favourite chocolate was (he preferred jelly snakes) or asking why he never replied to text messages between 9:30 and 10 (moisturising routine) and he was always so interested to hear about every aspect of Kurt that she didn't understand why he had all of a sudden done so many things so out of the ordinary and been so, well, Kurt had said it best - slutty.

Kurt spluttered slightly, letting out half-formed words that made no sense before simply reaching forward and turning his cup around to face Mercedes, a name (Cooper) and a phone number scrawled on the side in messy black handwriting.

"I just got somebody's number. I just _gave_ somebody my number. I exchanged _numbers_." Kurt said incredulously, blinking down at the cup he was now no longer touching as if he thought that if he did, it would disappear.

"Kurt, that's fantastic!" Mercedes clapped slightly with glee as she watched Kurt's face break into a grin. It was unrestrained, the grin Kurt gave whenever he got an international package in the mail, or was thinking about going to the mall.

"He's actually really cute, and he likes Lady Gaga, and I don't even know how we got started talking but it was really great and – Oh my _God, _what do I do now? Do I call him? When do I call? I don't know how to do these things! I didn't even think there was anybody who would even be remotely interested in me within a 20 mile radius of Lima – except Karofsky." Kurt noted with a shudder.

Mercedes had to giggle at the miniature freak-out she was witnessing Kurt have.

"Okay, calm yourself Kurt. This is perfect. First of all, you don't call – he has your number, let him chase you! Second of all, I think we both know what the events of today calls for. Shopping!"

Kurt clasped his hands together in glee and grinned at Mercedes.

"You always know what to say, darling!"

* * *

Three hours later, as the sun started to dip behind the hills, Mercedes helped Kurt load the last of his bags in the back of the car. He closed the boot shut with a snap, before turning around and opening his arms wide with a smile. As they came together for a tight hug, Kurt grinned into her ear as he spoke.

"Thank you so much 'Cedes. You dropped everything to come and see me and just – thank you. I know I can always count on you. Are you sure you don't want a lift home?"

As they pulled apart, still gripping each other's arms, Kurt's eyes were shiny with gratitude and love. Mercedes smiled to herself, knowing how lucky she was to have a friend like Kurt.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm right down the road, and anytime baby, you know I'm always here. You make that boy _work_ for your forgiveness okay, and if you need reminding of how amazing you are you better text me!"

Kurt laughed and stepped away from her, picking his messenger bag up from where he had placed it on the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. He walked towards the door of his beautiful black Lincoln Navigator, opening it with a click. He turned back to face Mercedes who was standing on the footpath, beaming at him and standing as she always did – hand on hip, her typical diva pose. _At least you can rely on some people to never change_. He thought with a smile as he climbed into the car and settled into the driver's seat. He wound his window down and started the engine and heard Mercedes give a yell.

"I almost forgot! If that boy calls you, you better call me straight away, or I will hunt you down Kurt Hummel!"

He just winked at her in response, backing out of the car park, turning the wheel and switching the car to drive. He tooted the horn twice as he began to drive away from his best friend and towards the interstate that would take him on the lengthy drive back to Dalton, the one place he _really_ didn't feel like going back to right now.


	4. Angst

**A/N: **Hi guys! I am so so so so so very sorry about the lateness of this chapter. It was a really difficult one for me to write, I'm not sure why, but I had to go over it so many times before I felt satisfied with it. I really hope you guys enjoy it and that the wait was worth it. I'm not going to make any promises on when the next one is up but hopefully you'll have at least one more part before the end of next week, maybe even two depending on how well I get my skates on, but I do have a lot of stuff on and coming up. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Hi, you've reached Kurt Hummel, I can't come to the phone right now because I'm really busy being completely fabulous, so leave me a mes-"_

Blaine pressed the end call button, a groan escaping his mouth in frustration. He slammed his phone down on the table and put his head in his hands. Kurt had been gone for a few hours now and the only thing Blaine knew for sure (apart from the fact that Kurt hated him now) was that he was out with Mercedes, somewhere far away from Dalton and far away from Blaine. The past few hours had passed in a horrible haze of self-pity and frustration.

He had trudged slowly back to the common room after the initial shock of Kurt being _gone_ settled, back to where all the Warblers were gathered. Before he even opened the door he could hear them talking animatedly about how _totally crazy_ the fight had been and _did you see Kurt's eyes that boy is scary_ and _Blaine is probably going to be killed, right _and it was all he could do to not kick down the door and start screaming at all of them himself. He'd stared at it for almost as long as he'd stared at the open door Kurt had left through. It had taken him twenty minutes before he could command his legs to work enough to walk forward and quietly close the door. The sound of it shutting, the loud creak and slam had sounded like a gavel sentencing him to his fate, and he had cringed at the way it echoed throughout the hallway.

When he'd finally gotten the courage to open the door to the common room, he had walked carefully past a few sniggering boys and stood quietly, staring at Wes hopelessly. He could feel his eyes welling again slightly (a slut _and_ a baby, good going Blaine, he thought bitterly) and he had coughed quietly, awkwardly shifting his weight to his other foot. He bit his lip as he stood, completely aware of how vulnerable he was standing in the middle of the room. He felt like every nerve was open, exposed and raw, and one wrong move or breeze and he was going to come tumbling down to the floor. He needed to sit here, to look at the room, at what had occurred, and to reassess in his mind everything that had happened. David and Wes had always teased him for being an over thinker, for overanalysing every situation and every encounter he had. He would go over things in his mind again and again, losing sleep as he thought about all the different ways he could've approached it, the things he could've said, and he had no doubt that he would be doing the same thing with what had happened this afternoon. He looked at Wes, pleading with him silently.

_Please Wes, read my mind. Just this once, use your freaky gavel powers to help me out._

Wes had looked back at Blaine and then glanced at the room full of boys who were still obviously distracted by the day's events, quietly clearing his throat.

"Alright everyone, show's over – clear out. Seeing as we performed today and got a good vocal workout… no Warbler practice today. I'll see you all tomorrow afternoon instead."

There had been a few cheers from behind Blaine as he had let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. _Thank you thank you thank you_, he quietly praised Wes in his mind as he'd taken a newly empty space on the couch. The Warblers had left the room, hi-fiving each other at the fact that they now had a free afternoon, and a few had cast Blaine quiet looks that were filled with apologies and pity.

He'd spent the rest of his time in the common room sitting quietly with Wes and David, saying nothing except to either of them, only speaking when he left Kurt message after message. Thankfully, Wes and David had both quietly kept up conversation about everything _besides_ what had occurred a few hours ago, and he silently thanked the lord that he had friends that _knew_ him, that really knew him. He had tried not to notice Wes and David wincing each time he left a more pathetic, rambly message than the last. He had sat staring at his phone, willing it to ring or buzz or something, anything, but had been rewarded with absolutely nothing - except for when he got to speak to Mercedes, and that had just made him even more miserable. His conversation with her had given him some information, but he had no idea what to do now, and he felt horrible at the fact that now Mercedes was probably just as mad at him as Kurt was. He had half hoped that he could enlist Mercedes' help in the situation, but it was obvious now that she was not going to let anything Blaine said distract her from keeping Kurt happy. If only he could let her know that that was the only thing he had ever wanted, to keep Kurt happy, and safe, and to, selfishly, keep _himself_ safe from being hurt. The worst part was, he had already screwed up all of those things. Here he was, and not only had he made Kurt furious, which was _not_ the way to keep someone safe and happy, but he wasn't exactly jumping for joy and feeling fine.

He looked up from his hands and laid his head back on the couch, glancing around the room. He remembered so vividly singing with Kurt, flirting with him, the entire time trying to not lean just that little bit further across the couch to softly touch his lips to his. Now not only had he lost any chance of ever sharing anything special with Kurt when he actually was ready, he'd lost him as a friend too. This room, the room that had been so special to him because of all the times he'd been able to spend in here with Kurt, just laughing and talking, didn't feel quite like home anymore. It hurt to sit there, to know that everything they had had, in any respect, was now tainted with an argument, with pain and with hurt. The room felt smaller, restricting, as he heard Kurt's words echo in his ears again and again. It wasn't even the words Kurt had used, it was what the tone of each one said – the loss of respect, the anger, the _disappointment_, that had coursed through each one, dripping out of Kurt's mouth down all over the floor like a flood and seeping into Blaine's pores as he'd felt himself become smaller and smaller. He had always hated when people were disappointed in him, always felt really horrible about it, but nothing had ever made him feel worse than having Kurt disappointed in him. What was he supposed to do now, when everything they had once had was seemingly so far gone?

He exhaled angrily as a word slipped from his lips.

"Fuck. Fuuuuuuck."

Wes and David heads jolted up from their conversation so fast that they could've been in danger of whiplash, and if Blaine weren't so upset he probably would've laughed. Their bodies went rigid, and while before they had looked rather relaxed, now they just looked uncomfortable.

"He's swearing." Wes said, glancing sideways at David. Blaine rolled his eyes, still staring at the roof, watching them out of his peripheral vision as he saw their faces morph into deep concern.

"This isn't good. Happy Dapper Blaine never swears." David sighed, scratching the back of his head. Blaine lifted his head to look him squarely in the eye and scoffed.

"Fuck. Fuckity fuck fucktruck. _Fucker_." He threw his head back down onto the couch, crossing his arms like a petulant child. He knew he was being stupid, but he hated when David called him Happy Dapper Blaine. It was like everyone saw him as this cardboard cut-out image of a perfectly nice boy. Sometimes he didn't _want_ to be the perfectly nice boy. He just wanted to be a teenager, a kid, and he wanted to be able to get angry without feeling like he was letting people down. He knew David was truly concerned and just pushing his buttons a little to see just how angry he was, but he was pissed off enough that he was perfectly happy to get mad at everyone today.

"Blaine?" Wes hesitated, clearing his throat, "Do you want to… to talk about it? Or sing about it? Because you're good at that, I mean. I just, well," - his head turned slowly sideways as his expression changed to slight fear - "David help."

Blaine half smiled at Wes' semi-pathetic attempt to help. Wes had never been good at the whole expressing your feelings thing and it had taken Blaine weeks before Wes had actually engaged in a conversation with him that involved how either of them felt about _anything_, and not about how brilliant it would be if they did _this_ _one song_ in the Warblers, and not an argument about vocal technique, and not about car types (which had bored Blaine to tears). David had always been the other half Wes had never knew he needed, taking over when things got a little heavy, because he was the sensitive one. Sometimes Blaine felt a little left out in the friendship because the two of them completed each other in the most perfect bromance way imaginable, and Blaine was kind of the side serve that came with the packaged deal. It had been so good to have Kurt around, someone who got it, got _him_, who he could talk about Vogue and music and theatre about, someone who felt like those things mattered just as much as how they actually felt about things.

"Blaine, what's going on? I know you fought with Kurt and yeah, it was er, pretty horrible, we all know that… but you should be happy, you got that guys number, and you and Kurt will make up… you're friends, right?"

Blaine met David's eye and the glint that was present in it only told him that David had worked it out. Blaine cursed himself for being so obvious but then felt a wave of relief go through his body at the fact he could finally _talk_ about it. Everything he'd been hiding, bottling up for what felt like _years_, he could finally let it out. As much as Wes and David didn't always understand the intricacies of Blaine's love life (or lack of) specifically, they were completely understanding of the problems that romance could offer, and unrequited love was a big one. David, ever the hopeless romantic, had mooned over a girl that worked at the ice-cream store in the local mall and had gone in every single day to buy ice-cream in the hopes of getting her number. It was only after several nasty experiences due to his lactose intolerance, nearly gassing Blaine and Wes to death, and finding out that, not only did she have a boyfriend, but she had been with him for nearly five years, did he _finally _relent.

"You know it's more than that. I know you know it's more than that." Blaine glared at David, ignoring Wes who was looking from the two of them with nothing but confusion on his face. David clapped his hands together excitedly as Wes looked oblivious still, his head whipping between Blaine and David as he tried to work out what was going on.

"What's more than what now?"

"I knew it. I _knew _it. We need a plan." David scrambled around on the table, grabbing at abandoned pieces of paper and throwing them aside, searching for a piece that hadn't been scribbled on and that wasn't sheet music, because then Wes would probably kill him.

Blaine groaned loudly at David's proposition as Wes grumbled indignantly, crossing his arms and loudly questioning, "A plan for _what_?"

David triumphantly grabbed a piece of blank paper with a flourish and grabbed a pen, uncapping it with his teeth. He tipped the end of the pen with the cap and smiled grandly, gesturing the pen in Blaine's direction.

"Blaine here, is in love."

Wes nodded at David, who was now scribbling furiously at the top of the page, eyebrows furrowed, before picking up his sentence when it seemed obvious that he wasn't going to continue.

"…with that boy from the gap store. I'm still confused."

"No, you idiot," David said, throwing a scorning look at Wes as he turned the piece of paper around to face Blaine, pushing it across the table. "With Kurt, and he needs a plan to make Kurt stop hating him and to finally take their relationship to the next level."

Wes looked taken aback momentarily before he sat back in his seat. "With Kurt? Don't be ridiculous, Blaine hasn't said anything about liking Ku-" Suddenly, a wave of realization overcame his face and Blaine was almost tempted to laugh. "Oh my god, you're completely in love with Kurt."

Blaine opened his mouth to halfheartedly deny the accusation but was interrupted by David, who was grinning like a maniac, the pen in his hand looking more menacing by the second as he tapped it at the title on the piece of paper.

"Come on. We need to brainstorm."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at him, half afraid to look. He sighed, resisting the urge to run his hand through his gelled hair like he always did when he was nervous, before glancing down at the title in front of him.

_How to win Kurt back and make him love Blaine (forever and ever) _was scrawled across the top of the page in David's blocky handwriting, and he'd added a small smiley face to the end of the sentence, and, Blaine noticed with a sigh, little love hearts to the top of the page. He resisted the urge to scrunch the paper up and eat it before spitting it back at him, instead letting out an exasperated groan as he looked back up at David. "Really David? Really?"

"_Really." _David said, nodding solemnly as if he was speaking about the plight of poverty in Africa, and not about Blaine's ridiculous excuse for a love life.

"This is what you need. I'm going to need some more information from you though before we can begin a proper analysis. Why did you go running after random GAP boy if it's Kurt you like? It doesn't exactly make much sense."

Blaine sighed, propping his feet up on the table slightly left of the piece of paper, after a murderous look from David when he nearly placed them on "The Plan."

"God, I don't even know. Probably because I'm an idiot? I'm terrified by the way he makes me feel, and - I want Kurt to realise I'm not perfect, because I can't live up to that, today made _that_ obvious, and I just - I just didn't think it would make him realise that I'm completely _idiotic_ in general – not to mention when it comes to all things romantic. He hates me now, and I'm screwed. I just wanted to get a boyfriend off-campus so that I could stop thinking about him _all the time_, and because I thought that if he and I had anything together I would be bound to screw it up because I have _no_ idea what I'm doing, and then he would hate me, so we would be better off just being friends and maybe if I was distracted I would stop _pining_ after him like an idiot, but it looks like I've managed to make all the things I didn't want to have happen, happen, without even having a relationship with him."

"Well." David said, clearing his throat in surprise at Blaine's rant. "I'm not so sure about – all the things you just said, but as for the romance - that my friend is where we come in. Well, mostly me." David beamed, ignoring Wes' cry of offense and quickly throwing the pen to Blaine before warding off a punch to the arm from Wes.

"How am I supposed to do anything for him if he won't even answer his phone? Because I'm pretty sure the best way to fix this is to talk to him seeing as if I'd just been honest in the first place, none of this would've happened, and we could've stayed friends, or maybe even been something more, or I don't even know, I don't know what I want."

"Look, we'll start small… work our way up, y'know?"

Blaine just sat back in his seat, defeated, as David started to chat with Wes about all the different things Blaine could to win Kurt back. Blaine wasn't even thinking about the romantic side of it at the moment – before he could even consider of all that, he just wanted Kurt back as a friend. He'd been the best friend he'd ever had, and the only person he'd ever really had strong feelings for, and he'd managed to screw both of those things up.

He was mid day-dream when the door to the common room opened, Kurt standing there, pale and as perfect as ever.

Blaine, Wes, and David froze momentarily and Kurt just looked at Blaine, eyes expressionless but still somehow saying so much, before walking into the room, quietly picking up some sheet music from the table in the corner, and walking out, tugging his messenger bag further onto his shoulder as he went. The door shut and it shook Blaine out of his reverie, and he jumped out of his seat and headed for the door, swinging it open and calling out Kurt's name. He could see him ahead of him down the hallway, stuffing his music in his bag, and he called out again, picking up his pace.

"Kurt, please!"

Kurt kept his head down, as he walked briskly, not even slowing in pace as he heard Blaine speak. Blaine jogged up next to him and reached out for his arm but Kurt ripped it away and continued on, not even looking at him as he spoke.

"No, you do not get to talk to me, you do not get to feel okay about everything that happened today because I sure as _hell_ don't, you do not get to feel forgiven, so don't come near me," His voice softened slightly as he turned the corner to climb the stairs, and Blaine stopped at the bottom, his hand on the banister as Kurt finally turned to meet his eyes as he softly spoke, practically under his breath "not yet, anyway."

Blaine searched Kurt's eyes for something, anything to let him know that he didn't hate him completely, but all he saw was blue and grey, ocean and sky and concrete and rain and hurt, a lot of hurt. Kurt tore his eyes away from his own and he felt a knot form in his gut, as he watched Kurt turn and walk up the stairs to his dorm room. He lent against the banister and watched Kurt until he was gone, turning the corner and disappearing from his sight for what felt like the millionth time today, and he felt the realisation hit hard at just how out of reach he really was.


	5. Changes

**A/N: **Hello hello, it's that time again kids. This chapter pretty much wrote itself and I really like it, so I hope you guys do too. The chapters seem to be getting longer and longer as the story gets more involved and it's probably going to end up being at least 10 chapters long, but probably more. I've got a lot of ideas about where I want to take the story and telling it from two points of view makes it both more difficult and a lot easier at the same time. Also, please take the time to leave a review. I hate to be _that_ author, but they really do motivate me to write more, and I love hearing your feedback. I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Kurt shut the door behind him in a hurry, leaning his head back against the door. He felt his chest constrict as he remembered the way Blaine had searched him, like he was staring straight through everything Kurt had ever thought he was sure about. He wasn't sure about _anything_ anymore. He hung his head in frustration, the hot wet tears dripping down his cheeks. His right hand balled into a fist, tightening it's grip on his messenger bag and his left hand shot up to quietly push the tears off his face, as if by removing the evidence, the pain that had caused it all would disappear too.

It had been so much easier to pretend when he was with Mercedes that he was going to be just fine, and getting Cooper's number had been such a good distraction at the time. It had made him feel like there was something else to think about, possibly _someone_ else to think about - a concept he could flirt with, even if the idea didn't necessarily get his heart racing the way one look shared with Blaine could. Now that he was here though, back at Dalton, the hallways echoing with all the things that had been said, and probably shouldn't have been, and all the things that were still hanging in the balance between them, unspoken and unaddressed – all he felt was tired.

He was tired of being angry and being hurt and fighting for a chance in everything. It was time to make a change. He lifted his head and shrugged his bag off his shoulder, striding over to his bed, slipping his shoes off gently and quietly collapsing into the comfort of his covers. He once again praised Gaga that he had been given a single room, something Kurt was especially grateful for at this moment. He shifted into a more comfortable position, staring at the ceiling, as if the repetitive pattern would somehow morph into words of wisdom that he so desperately needed.

He began to dream up lists in his head, trying desperately to straighten out his feelings about each convoluted and complicated part of the situation.

First of all, he liked Blaine; that much was true, and probably completely obvious now to a lot of people. A part of him had liked him since the moment he met him, and it had grown stronger and stronger, but he had tried to do what he hadn't with everyone else he'd liked - be mature, not get too headstrong and crazy about it all, put his friendship with him first. He had kind of screwed that up with the whole abusing him thing – not to say that he was regretting it, as there was still a fair amount of anger coursing through his veins.

Second of all, Blaine obviously wanted to fix this and be friends, but a part of Kurt wanted to hurt him a little bit, make him sweat. It's selfish, and it's slightly cruel, and as much as he cares about Blaine, he doesn't understand how he can blatantly disregard his feelings, and if he can do that so easily and then just _decide_ that he feels bad about it once he realizes he's hurt people, _he_ can fight for that friendship. Kurt is so sick of fighting for everything – first fighting at McKinley to just exist without being tortured, then fighting to be the same person he was there when he came to Dalton and suddenly he was trying too hard just _by_ being himself. He's sick of fighting for love, love that never even begins – First with Finn, and then the whole debacle with Sam, and now Blaine – the one person he thought he might actually have a chance with. He is not going to sit by and fight for the friendship this time. He's not going to fight anymore. It's time for someone to fight for him for a change.

He sat up on his bed, wrapping his arms around his legs, his chin cupped on his knee. He missed the Kurt that didn't care what anyone thought, the one who was eager and yes, maybe _slightly_ naïve, but the one who only let himself love his music and his theater and his fashion and generally was okay being alone so long as he was still a diva.

He'd lost parts of himself along the way, along the journey he'd been undertaking, and it seemed like Dalton really did have a penchant for making people fit in, seeing as the Kurt _he_ knew, the one that seemed so far away now, would have never let himself be treated the way he has been. Not by Blaine, not by the Warblers when they discounted his opinion, not by any of them. Maybe this was the start of that coming back – the rebellion, the fact that he finally said what he was thinking, and didn't just let himself be the automaton they seemed to want because it was easier.

He groaned, feeling a headache swell over his mind as all the thoughts seemed to build up, scrambling for attention and getting louder and louder. He just wanted to shut it all out, but it was impossible. Blaine was going to be everywhere, and it wasn't going to be easy.

_Not that anything in my life ever is_.

He thought bitterly, feeling the tears welling up again. He flopped back onto the bed, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily.

Or at least he thought so, until he was roughly awoken to the chorus of Telephone, slightly muffled through the fabric of his messenger bag. He groaned, rolling over and glancing bleary-eyed at the clock. It read 6:04, approximately an hour since he had flopped onto the bed, and with dinner at 7, he cursed himself momentarily for falling asleep. Naps were _never_ good for overall beauty sleep because it always meant he slept badly at night, and it screwed up his hair every single time because for some reason he decided to sleep like a crazed animal and flop all over the place, inevitably destroying any hairdo that had been in place.

He was pulled out of his reverie by realizing that his phone was _still _ringing, and he should probably answer it. He dragged himself off the bed, his neck sore from sleeping in an odd position and rummaged through the bag, finally pulling out the offending iPhone. He didn't recognize the number and he clicked accept with a moments hesitation, straightening up and turning to look at his ruined hair in the mirror, one hand to his ear and the other attempting to restyle it in vain.

"H'llo?"

_God damnit._ He nearly smacked himself against the forehead for forgetting the fact that during the first ten minutes after he woke up, he always sounded like a mix between playing-it-straight Kurt and someone whose throat had been attacked with a cheese grater. He had never really been a morning person.

"Um, hi? Er, I'm not sure if I've got the right number. Is this Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes widened as he recognized the voice as that of Coopers, gorgeous barista boy who had just heard Kurt sounding like a psychopath.

"Hi!" He squeaked much higher than his normal pitch, mentally reminding himself to beat himself over the head with a blunt object later on. He sat down on the bed, stiff as a board, as if sitting still would stop him from saying anything completely idiotic. "No, um, haha, this is he. I mean, that is, you have the right number. Um. Yeah."

He heard a warm laugh, smooth like hot chocolate, and he let out a sigh of relief as Cooper continued on, sounding like he was smiling slightly. As much as he felt like an idiot, it was nice to know that maybe Cooper wasn't sitting there thinking about how generally stupid he was.

"I know it's not really kosher to call literally a few hours after you get a persons number but I'm kind of an idiot and I was putting your number in my phone and then I dialed accidentally and I didn't want to just hang up or leave an awkward message because that's kind of creepy so I thought I'd just wait and see if you answered and I told myself I wouldn't ramble but it seems like I'm doing exactly that."

Kurt had to giggle as Cooper sighed his way through the end of the sentence, and was comforted with the fact that he seemed to be as completely nervous about this whole situation as Kurt was. The feeling in the pit of his stomach, while not as strong, was familiar. That little bubble of excitement that he felt every time Blaine glanced his way was there, fizzing it's way through his veins. It just reminded him of Blaine, his eyes full of that warmth, that goofy smile he would always give Kurt and he forced himself to push it out of his mind, concentrating his attention on Cooper. They were really complete opposites in the looks department, but Kurt was attracted to the both of them. Cooper had dark blonde hair, straight and short but slightly messy, a style similar to Alex Pettyfer, someone who Kurt had harbored a crush for since he saw him in Stormbreaker years ago. His eyes were dark, and kind, and he was slightly taller than Kurt, his smile dimpling when he laughed, and Kurt smiled to himself as he remembered.

"Aaaaaanyway, I just thought I'd call and say that it was completely awesome to meet you today, and um, I'd love to get a cup of coffee sometime with you, because I know you like coffee, obviously, but you know, only if you wanted to, maybe tomorrow night or something?"

Kurt glanced at his reflection in the mirror, hair still mussed and for a moment, he really didn't care. Here was a cute guy, calling _him_, being nervous about talking to _him_. It was everything he'd asked for, and sure, he wasn't Blaine – but maybe that was a good thing, seeing as that hadn't worked out very well so far for him.

"I'd love to. Really. I have school tomorrow, so how about we meet halfway when I finish, round at 4:30ish? I know this great little place in Huntsville?"

"Sounds perfect. Text me the address. I'll see you then, Kurt."

Kurt smiled as he said goodbye and hung up the phone, still reeling a little from what had just occurred. He stood up from the bed, quickly saving Cooper into his contacts and tapping out the address for one of his favourite coffee stops he usually dropped into on his way from Westerville to Lima, debating on whether or not to add a smiley face. He sat his phone down on the dresser, finally giving his full attention to his hair as he styled it back into submission, the smile on his face impossible to remove. Maybe this fight with Blaine, this – _space_, was exactly what he needed, what they both needed. It was time to move on to someone who actually wanted him back, and maybe this could be just that. He finished styling his hair just as his phone buzzed in response.

**Can't wait. **** x**

He smiled at the message, grabbing his phone and began to text Mercedes as he left his room to head towards the dining hall. As much as he didn't want to run into Blaine and deal with everything, he knew he'd have to see them all eventually, and it was about time he walked in there and actually held his head high. _He_ was in control this time, no-one could take that away, and he channeled his diva idols as he walked with the spring in his step he'd missed so much down the hallway.

_He called, he's adorable, I'm an idiot, we have a coffee date tomorrow. Call you after dinner boo! xxxx_

He got an almost instantaneous reply, and he laughed to himself as he descended the stairs at her reply. She was always like that, and he relished the fact that he knew someone who could text as quickly as he could, and that he was lucky enough to have her for his best friend. He was _extremely_ proud of the fact that he could text and walk with no problem, and he weaved his way expertly through the crowds that were ambling slowly towards the dining hall.

_Aghhhh! As if you are keeping me waiting! Hummel, you are lucky I love you! I'm so excited for you baby! You deserve this. xxxxx_

He slipped the phone back into the pocket of his Articulated denim Alexander McQueen jeans, pushing one of the double doors open, immediately flooding his senses with the smell of roast beef and vegetables and the chatter of what felt like three thousand boys, knives and forks scraping gingerly on plates. He forced himself to not glance around at all the tables, knowing that if he allowed himself one look his eyes would immediately search for that hair he knew so well, the face he could instantaneously pick out of a crowd. Instead, he stepped over to the buffet, past the meat and vegetables, picking up a tray and selecting his usual serving of Greek salad, an apple, and a bottle of water. He scrunched his nose up at the endless supply of carbohydrates that were nearby, attacking his sense. A memory shot through him like a bullet, of Blaine begging him to eat some of his fries last week (_Come on, you have to have some, they're amazing – Blaine, they taste like feet, I'm not eating them, they'll ruin my complexion)_ and tickling him until he agreed - only after nearly falling off his chair at the table. He deliberately turned away from the food, feeling a combination of what felt like disgust at the food itself and at his foolish behaviour. He allowed himself to glance over the room momentarily, scanning the tables filled with boys and saw Wes, David and Blaine huddled at one of the tables. Blaine was picking at his food miserably and glanced up once he realized Wes and David had stopped their conversation, following their eyeline to stare at Kurt. Wes waved Kurt over and Kurt swallowed, shaking his head gently at Wes with a sorry smile, instead walking over to a table filled with a few of the other Warblers. He looked away quickly, missing the hurt cross Blaine's face before he turned away and pushed his meal away from him across the table.

He placed his tray down on the table, sliding a seat out and joining Liam, Ryan, Owen, Ethan, and Anthony. Anthony was throwing fries dipped in ketchup across the table at Liam, who was insulting him about being a terrible shot, throwing broccoli back in response. Ryan and Owen were in the middle of a conversation about whether blondes were hotter than brunettes, and Kurt rolled his eyes. He picked up his fork, pushing his salad around on his plate and, feeling eyes locked on him, looked up at Ethan, who was raising an eyebrow at him from the seat across from him.

"What, Ethan?" He spat out, daring the boy to test him.

"Nothing, nothing," Ethan said, raising his hands in submission and pulling a face. "Just surprised that you and Blaine haven't made up yet and that you're actually sitting with us for once."

"Ugh, please shut up." Kurt said, stabbing a piece of lettuce. Anthony had stopped attacking Liam and was instead chewing thoughtfully on a fry, looking at Kurt with an open half-chewed mouthful of potato.

"Where did that even _come _from man? Not that it wasn't totally badass, I just didn't expect it."

"I don't think anyone did." Liam scoffed, leaning back and balancing on the legs of his chair.

"Firstly, close your mouth Anthony, that is not at all attractive, and secondly, can we _please_ not talk about this? He – he pissed me off, and I just had to tell him, so I did, that's it." Kurt uncapped his water and took a gulp as Ethan shrugged.

"Okay, sorry. Look, you're welcome to sit with us for as long as you want, we've got your back. Blaine can be an idiot sometimes, we all can, really, and what you did today was actually pretty cool. No-one really – no one really says what they're thinking here."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, sarcastically saying "Oh really? I always felt like I was on the set of Dr Phil, really, what with all the sharing and hugging and crying."

"Whatever. I'm just saying, we'll look out for you if you need a friend."

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement, previous conversations forgotten and Kurt had to grimace in appreciation.

"Thanks, guys. I need some friends right now, but I really would rather talk about absolutely anything else than what happened today."

The conversation quickly picked up once Owen again started arguing about the fact that brunettes were considerably smarter and more attractive than blondes. Kurt turned out the chatter, grateful to be able to eat his food in peace without having to think about Blaine. At least, not having to think about him being right in front of him. He munched on his salad, occasionally interjecting with his opinion on the different topics that the boys circled through, but found that he didn't have much to contribute when it came to video games. He did, however, surprise them with his car knowledge, engaging in a heated argument with Ryan about whose car was more roadworthy. He felt a pang as he missed the conversations he normally had with Wes, David and Blaine about music and theater, and while these guys were Warblers and good friends, the conversation just wasn't what he was used to. He had nearly finished his apple when he saw Blaine quickly pass his table, striding straight for the door and he felt his heart leap in his throat as he watched Blaine practically slam the door behind him. Wes and David hurried after him, David turning around quickly to mouth a _Sorry_ to him, before whipping around on his heel to follow Wes out of the room.

He felt sad about the fact that he sort of had to avoid Wes and David for as long as he was avoiding Blaine, especially considering he had cultivated good friendships with both of them. He knew David's mouthed sorry was his way of saying _I'm sorry I can't make this better, we're still friends_, and he felt slightly better knowing that his friendships with them weren't ruined entirely, even if he had screamed at one of their best friends. He finished his food, picking up his tray, rising slowly from the table. He said his goodbyes to the boys, who were discussing the new Halo map, before placing the tray and his utensils over at the wash bay. He had a few hours before he was going to head to bed so he decided to head straight back to his room, deftly avoiding the common room and managed to make it back without any chance encounters.

Once inside, he speed dialed Mercedes and gave her the run-down on his call with Cooper. After nearly an hour and a half of discussing what to wear and the location, they finally hung up and Kurt grabbed his small bag, which was full of face products. He quickly headed out the door of his room and towards the communal bathroom at the end of the hallway. Most of the guys took their showers before dinner and Kurt liked being able to do his moisturizing routine in peace. He pushed the door open and nearly walked right into Blaine, who was standing by the first sink and washing his hands.

"Sorry." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Blaine as he walked past him to the sink at the opposite end of the mirror. He forced himself to keep his eyes trained on his bag, unpacking the different liquids and products he used to maintain his skin. He listened to the sink running, and felt himself glance over to Blaine in his peripheral vision. Blaine was gripping the sink, finally reaching up to turn off the tap. Kurt popped the cap on one of his bottles, the air thick with tension, an awkward, heavy silence hanging over the entire bathroom.

He jumped slightly as he heard a bang, as Blaine kicked out against the cupboard below the sink. Suddenly, he paced over to Kurt, ran his hand through his curls, hair still slightly wet from the shower he must've had, his actions sharp and jittery. Kurt didn't look directly at him, instead staring at his reflection in the mirror as he squirted some of the moisturizer in his hand.

"I can't do this. I can't have you not talking to me. I can't handle us tip-toeing around each other. I screwed up and I'm sorry, really, but you can't ignore me forever."

Kurt continued to say nothing and make no eye contact, rubbing his hands together and beginning to apply the moisturizer to his face. Blaine sighed, exasperated, and Kurt could tell from the way he sighed, broken and harsh, that he was close to tears. He chose to ignore the shuddering shoulders next to him, instead finishing the first part of his routine, washing and drying his hands. He went to reach for the next bottle when he felt Blaine grab his outstretched arm, pulling him sharply, and a moment later he was engulfed in a hug. Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close as they stood cheek to cheek. Warmth radiated between them but the shock of the sudden hug left Kurt feeling frozen. For a moment he relished the closeness of Blaine, the way his hair smelt faintly like strawberry shampoo and the way his arms were strong around his body. It felt so good, but at the same time, it hurt so much. He felt his eyes sting momentarily, his arms still hanging limp at his sides. Finally, his brain caught up to the situation, and he pushed Blaine off him, scrambling to put all his products in his bag, as Blaine stumbled slightly, shock and hurt on his face. Kurt quickly walked out of the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him as he half ran towards his dorm room. He heard the door swing open from behind him and Blaine called out.

"What am I supposed to do?"

He couldn't resist turning around to look at Blaine, who was standing with one hand on the door, his face filled with anguish as he looked at Kurt pleadingly.

"Figure it out." Kurt shot back, shrugging, before turning away again and continuing down the hallway, his heart aching just from finally meeting his eyes. He barreled back to his dorm room, out of breath and out of strength, slamming his things down on the floor before he just collapsed into bed, falling into a restless slumber.


	6. Breakdown

**A/N: **You guys! I am so freaking sorry for the wait on this part. See, I was super excited to be all awesome and post a new part a day or two after the Kurt part but then unfortunately I got a really bad case of Glandular fever and I've been pretty much out since the last part was posted. I was hospitalised twice because it got so bad but the whole time I just wanted to write the next part for you guys, I seriously felt so bad about it! Then I started getting a little better and I wanted to write it but the motivation just wasn't there because I was still so tired so I made a few feeble attempts and then gave up but finally, here it is! However, I am almost completely back on my feet now (minus a shocking cough and a fair amount of tiredness) so you get the longest part so far (and one of the angstiest!) I really really hope you enjoy it. I had my first day at uni today and it was nice to come home and write this. The story is hopefully going to get a little less angsty from here (I hope, I hope!) but it's seriously taken on a mind of it's own. Enjoy and once again, I'M SO SORRY.

Oh, and you should totally listen to the arrangement of the song I used in this part. I don't normally like including music in my fics because it can frustrate people, but this was too perfect to pass up.  
youtube(dot)com(slash)watch?v=Ptk8yjhWKoM

* * *

Blaine swung open the door to Warblers rehearsal, his muscles tense and a pit in his stomach in anticipation at seeing Kurt for the first time since dinner the previous night. He felt the night rush back at him as well as a bout of nausea as he thought of it, like a bad nightmare. He took his seat near Wes, David and Thad at the council table, his hands twisting together just for something to do to distract him from his desire to run or hide. Wes and David nodded at him gently, and he half-heartedly smiled in return, mostly to make them feel better even if he didn't feel any better at all. He hadn't wanted to come to Warblers at all, he hadn't even wanted to go through his school day, but he knew he had a duty to the team and after the previous days practice being completely disrupted due to the fight that had occurred, he felt like he definitely couldn't skip out. Plus they had put in so much effort to help him out, and being one of the main soloists for Regionals meant he needed to be there. David had texted him telling him he could skip this one if he needed, but he felt like he owed it and so much more to both him and Wes after everything that had happened last night. God, last night. It hurt to think about, and the fact that it had barely been a day since everything had happened – the fights, the pain – it all made Blaine feel motion sick.

He had been absentmindedly playing with the flimsy looking beans on his plate, half-listening to Wes discussing the merits of using a mash-up at their next competition when they stopped speaking. Blaine knew at that moment Kurt had walked in. He always knew when he entered a room – the atmosphere changed, became sharper, he could feel it, and it was so tangible he could've sworn he could reach out and touched the crisp air. Kurt had walked in, head high and as beautiful as ever in his pale complexion, and it felt like a snake had wrapped itself around Blaine's gut and constricted tightly, coldly. He felt Wes wave him over gently and for a moment he hoped maybe it had all been a bad dream – that maybe Kurt would walk over and sit down with his salad next to Blaine, their knees brushing together under the table like they always did – it was so subtle that it could've passed as accidental but Blaine knew at least on his part that he craved the warmth and electricity that ran through him each time they got closer. He would turn to Blaine and smile; that one simple smile that made it feel like they were the only two in the room. He'd always made Blaine feel like he belonged - wherever he was, whenever Kurt was there, smiling that smile, he belonged. The four of them would talk about music or gossip and then somehow, unnoticeably, the conversation would split, Wes and David talking amicably while Kurt and Blaine would go off on their own tangents about whatever it was they felt like talking about. It would be gentle, refreshing, like a slow walk in the spitting rain. They would affectionately jab at one another, verbally and physically, teasing in the best of fun. They knew where the lines were and were careful not to cross them, but it was never a concern because they knew each other so well. Blaine had thought he knew, anyway. He supposed Kurt would be thinking the same thing now. Perhaps it was a dream, perhaps any second now, Blaine was going to feel Kurt beside him. Blaine almost managed to convince himself that it was going to happen, until Kurt shook his head and kept walking, taking a seat at another nearby table.

He couldn't blame him, but it didn't stop him from feeling sick to his stomach, like everything inside him was being crushed and twisted, his own guilt and anger and bitterness curling up inside him, ready to eat him alive. He pushed his food away, the mere smell of it seeming rotten, making him want to scream and vomit, and instead grasped the edge of the table. One finger nervously scratched away at the wood, chipping what it could away, and he felt a splinter slip beneath his skin. He didn't bother to pull it out or stop; he just kept gripping the table and scratching. He always needed to be holding onto something when he was angry or hurt, he would grip the sturdiest thing near him and hold on for dear life. It was his lifeline, the one thing that would stop him from throwing a punch or breaking down to the floor, and the one thing that would keep him from giving in to his impulses. He had done it for as long as he could remember. He sat there for as long as he stand, until he felt everything rise up like a tornado from his gut, words and food and thoughts and everything he had and hadn't said, and he couldn't sit still anymore. He stood up, a little too quickly, his chair screeching abruptly and startling Wes and David who stopped their conversation to glance at him. He didn't bother making eye contact with them, unable to think of anything except getting out. He needed to be out of the room, he needed grey and clouds and quiet, not the whirling truth around him thanks to Kurt that was beating into his head how ridiculously far this had all gone. He didn't look around to see if Kurt was looking, or to see if David and Wes were following him, partly because he couldn't bear to know and partly because he just didn't have the energy to focus on anything but getting out. He could barely feel his feet as they propelled him, his head aching and his hands shaking at his sides. He pushed the doors open, leaving them to slam behind him as he walked towards Dalton's front door. He needed to be away, as far away as possible. Dalton was pain personified, hurt - reminders of all the things he'd now lost. Every hallway held stories, laughter, friendship, every inch stained with the things that he may now never get back, and it felt like the entire building was laughing at him. He was crying now, he realised, but he hadn't felt the familiar warning sting, all he'd felt was heat sliding down his face, splicing his cheeks. He faintly heard footsteps behind him, clapping down the hallway as they approached. He felt a gentle hand on one arm and shrugged it off forcefully, not even looking to see whom it belonged to, not hearing the words or the questions around him. He flung open the door, cold whirling in and around him, rushing under his skin as he continued on, with no idea where he was headed. It was at that point that he was grabbed, pulled, and before he knew what he was doing he had whirled around and raised a fist, pulling it back ready to hit the person trying to keep him in place, trying to bring him back to somewhere he didn't belong anymore.

"Woa- Blaine stop!"

It took Blaine a moment for his vision to clear and his head to catch up, hazy with emotion and heavy with tears. He blinked at David, his face filled with something that Blaine had never seen before. It looked like concern, but something else sat at the fringes to greet him and it was with a start that he realised what it was – fear. He felt his fist uncurl, the fist that didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore, and he lowered it to his side, his body slumping. Wes was a couple of steps behind David, his hand covering most of his face in shock. His eyes betrayed his similar feelings on the situation. He felt David pull him gently towards him and wrap his arms around him, and for the first time since he had been little, Blaine cried – really cried. He had always kept it to himself, in his room after school when all the teasing got too much, or in classroom and hallway corners, quiet, stolen moments that no one ever saw, but he didn't care who knew anymore. He _was_ vulnerable, and he _was_ hurting, and he didn't care who was aware or who saw it or who thought less of him, because nobody could make him feel any worse about himself than Kurt did simply by not wanting to be near him, god, not being able to _bear_ being near him. He sobbed into his friends shoulder, and felt Wes' hand settle on his shoulder with a slight squeeze. He didn't even realise after a few minutes that David had moved to his side and that they were gently leading him inside and up the stairs to his room, his feet heavy and disconnected like the rest of his body. He could barely feel anything physical; the only things that felt slightly real were the heat that was now gushing down his face, the snot bubbling in his nostrils and the feeling of his eyes becoming puffier by the second. He heard something click and suddenly he was in his room, being sat on his bed by David. He lay down; head on the pillow, and David gently removed his friend's shoes before pulling the blanket up over him. He stood, taking a step back from his friend to take in what he saw before him. Wes stood by idly, awkward and frightened, and neither one dared speak for a moment as Blaine shook with now silent tears.

"Do you – do you want us to stay?" David asked, his voice quiet and his eyes warm.

Blaine said nothing, only shook his head and blinked.

David glanced at Wes who looked back at him with a sigh, and nodded back at Blaine.

"Just – text us if you need anything, okay? _Anything._"

Blaine nodded feebly, fisting the blanket gently with his hand as he pulled it closer to him. He heard the door click shut gently and silently praised his friends for putting up with all of this. They didn't always understand, but they always cared, and he didn't know many people who would be willing to look after someone after that someone nearly punched them. But that was benevolent David for you, and even Wes in all his semi-socially illiterate qualities cared deeply about him, and he knew that. He cursed himself for lessening them, for the fact that they weren't interested in the things he was interested in all the time, and the fact that they were a team, because it didn't change the fact that they were unfailing towards him. This only confirmed it. None of the three of them had ever been such a mess before, and Blaine would've laughed at the amount of liquid on the pillow if it weren't completely unfunny.

He let his eyes fall shut as his head began to pound, the crying exhausting and isolating his body from his mind. He could feel himself falling asleep, and he gave himself up to the sweet almost peace it brought with it. He felt himself drifting with images of Kurt laughing, smiling, doing all the things that Blaine had felt lucky to see and now guilty to have taken from him. He wanted happiness for him, that's all he'd ever wanted, and in his own cluelessness he had flipped that completely on it's axis and had not only ruined any chance of happiness for the both of them together, but had hurt something so special, something that had always been so much stronger than him, something that had always seemed like it would be there. His body finally won the fight against his mind and he slipped into sleep, his head full and his heart heavy.

He felt himself jolt awake as his phone buzzed gently on the bedside table. He lifted it to see a text from David.

_I didn't realise how bad it was. We're here if you need. _

He set it back down, unable to think of something coherent to reply with and sat up in his bed, his head still pulsing slightly. His pillow was soggy with tears and gel, and his skin was soaked with sweat from passing out under the covers in his uniform, blazer and all. He stood up gingerly, stripping the blazer off and slinging it over his desk chair. He pushed all thought from his mind and slipped into automatic as he grabbed some clothes from his closest, a towel, and some shampoo, and headed towards the bathrooms. It would probably be pretty quiet at this time of night and he could get away with not talking to anyone. He slipped in to the bathrooms, praising the fact that whoever else was in there was already in the shower and silent except for the water that was pounding the tiles. He stepped into a cubicle, setting his clothes down and turning the water to hot. The heat struck his body, punishing every inch and he relished the scalding. The pain was refreshing, to actually feel his body again and not just feel everything that he'd been carrying around inside. He adjusted the knobs to make it more reasonable before automatically washing his hair and his body. He stood there under the water, letting it run rivets down his body for what must've been at least half an hour before he finally stepped out and dried off. His hair felt lighter, freer, now that all the gel he normally scraped through his hair was gone. When he was finally dry, he left his things in the cubicle as he went to go to the toilet. He was ready for bed again anyway, more than ready to crawl back under the covers and hide, and he figured he may as well do all his night-time routine now. He was washing his hands under the sink when it happened, the door swinging open and all of a sudden a person nearly colliding with him – it was with a jolt that he realised the person was Kurt.

His ears didn't register the mumbled sorry, but his hands registered his presence. He felt himself grip the sides of the sink, searching desperately for that comfort once more. He thought about his coping mechanism again for the first time since dinner. He'd done it for as long as he could remember. Back at his old school, he'd always done his best to adhere to the "ignore them and they'll stop harassing you" concept, even though it failed him every single day. He would let them throw things at his head in class – it started out with paper, scrawled notes and crude drawings screwed up and thrown, but graduated to rubbers, other bits of stationary, and even one day the novel they were studying in English. He would grip the sides of his desk for dear life to stop himself from bursting into tears. They would fill his locker with condoms and notes saying "have fun, faggot", "enjoy your diseases you filthy cocksucker", and they would tumble all over the floor, skittering everywhere in a teasingly melodious way when accompanied by the giggles of girls around him. He was used to the door having some sort of insult scrawled on it, but that didn't stop him from regularly steadying himself on it to keep him from punching the locker next to him. It had never once failed him and had kept him from many an outburst, many a breakdown. Even all of the teasing and the pain didn't quite compare to how he felt now. He could feel Kurt next to him, popping bottle caps and doing what he always did, and it was at that point he snapped, any chance of peace gone as his skin prickled. He kicked out at the bottom of the sink in anger and felt Kurt jolt next to him, and he stepped away, turning towards Kurt, tap still running. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked towards the person who he had pigeonholed as his best friend and was now the only person he'd ever wanted, in any capacity, acquaintance, friend, best friend, boyfriend, lover, even foe – it seemed the only one he was going to get was stranger. He didn't even think about the words coming out before he opened his mouth to speak, Kurt still ignoring his presence.

"I can't do this. I can't have you not talking to me. I can't handle us tip-toeing around each other. I screwed up and I'm sorry, really, but you _can't_ ignore me forever."

It was more of a plea than him pointing anything out, but it didn't matter either way it appeared. Kurt continued to ignore him and Blaine sighed, the tears he thought he'd cried away completely beginning to prickle at the back of his eyes. He wanted to grip onto something, anything, find something that would make him feel safe but he knew it was too late, that nothing was going to make him feel safe anymore, no sink, no table, no locker – not when he didn't have Kurt in his life, and that scared him so much. He saw Kurt's arm extend, pale and delicate, and suddenly every bone and muscle in his body came together before he understood what was happening. Kurt was in his arms, and he was radiating warmth, and life, and joy, and Blaine felt what seemed like peace for the first time since Kurt had yelled at him as he sat on that couch in the common room. Kurt wasn't hugging back, but he didn't care, Blaine knew he didn't deserve the comfort, even if he was getting it anyway simply from just having Kurt so close. That was what made it hurt so much more, like a drug being ripped from an addict right before they get to cinch down on the top of the syringe, when Kurt pushed him away. It was funny that in that moment, the only thing Blaine could think of was the fact that that moment was the only time he could ever remember his grip failing him. He had given in, given up, given _himself_ up entirely to the one thing that he wanted to do – put his arms around Kurt. His entire body had been screaming for it, every nerve ending clawing out for reprieve. It was like his muscles, his soul, everything underneath his skin had been breaking out and stepping forward to do it, and before he knew it he was there. It had felt like a fire being put out in a way, relief and safety, but at the same time it was like he was ignited, warmth and passion, and then just like that, it was over. He felt his face betray him, shock and hurt, and he had to push his mind to catch up when Kurt pushed out the door. He followed, one hand on the door as he called out after Kurt the only question he could think of.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Kurt had looked at him, and uttered three words. "Figure it out." They shot through Blaine and he watched Kurt until he disappeared entirely, something he was getting entirely too used to seeing and at the same time, like a scar being ripped off the same wound over and over again just when it was almost forgotten, almost healed.

He could still hear those words echoing in his head now as he slowly focused back in on what was going on in the room. He had tuned out completely, and he hadn't even noticed it filling up slowly with people, hadn't noticed the quiet whispered glances thrown his way and if he had, he wouldn't have cared. The one thing he did notice when he finally came back to attention was that Kurt wasn't there. His usual seat next to Blaine was empty, which was to be expected, but the rest of the empty chairs or couch seats that littered the room were being used as footstools by the boys as they chattered about all sorts of things. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the banging of Wes' gavel on the council desk, and the noise died down almost immediately.

"Okay, I had planned for us to practice the songs we decided on and practiced last week for the upcoming Regionals yesterday." Wes cleared his throat. "However, we were unable to do so, and unfortunately it seems like our countertenor is unable to attend today's practice," Wes said, without glancing at Blaine or changing tone, something that Blaine was grateful for – the man's beautiful grasp of tact. However, Blaine did immediately felt numerous pairs of eyes on him as Wes continued, "so we'll practice Blaine's solo, and leave Kurt's solo for next time. We still have to work out the song for our duet and the soloists, which we can do next week. Blaine, if you will?"

He felt the room shift around him as the Warblers moved into position and he stood, picking up the sheet music for his part and stepped in front of the crowd. When he reread the title, he realised that the song was going to be a lot harder to sing this week than it had been the other week. It was going to be perfect for the competition, there was no denying that, and it was definitely an anthem, but he knew every line was going to destroy him today. He was always better at singing how he felt rather than saying it, and nothing fit more appropriately than the song he was holding in his now shaking hand. It was too late though now – he was here, and all he could do was breathe through it. He took a deep breath as the Warblers behind him began the harmonies for the song. He opened his mouth, the words coming out as easily as if he _had_ been speaking them.

_Come up to meet you  
Tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
_

He felt himself quiver slightly at the lines, suddenly unsteady on his feet, and he felt a hand come forward to grip his left side as David held onto him gently, steadying him for the most part as he took another breath.

_I had to find you_

_Tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
Tell me your secrets  
And ask me your questions  
Oh, let's go back to the start  
Running in circles  
Calling tails  
Heads on a silence apart  
_  
He closed his eyes before singing the next part, knowing full well it would be difficult, David's grip strong and comforting as the Warblers swelled behind him, the song soft and yet so loud, full of hidden strength.

_Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
Oh, take me back to the start  
_  
He opened his eyes when he heard his voice crack slightly at the last word, emotion overcoming him, and he did his best to shake it off; thankful for the fact that he could put it down to it being one of the first practices. He knew Wes wasn't going to push him today, and he had never been more grateful to have his friends on the council. The Warblers changed tone slightly as the song began to expand, taking on more breath and more power. He had a little time here to compose himself, inhaling and exhaling as he tried to calm himself down. The song felt so much more stable than Blaine did.

_I was just guessing  
At numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart  
Questions of science  
Science and progress  
Did not speak as loud as my heart  
_

He almost smiled at how close the song was to his situation, how screwed up he was. He was always so calculated, always guessing, and always screwing it up. He'd done it again, like he always did, and no matter what information he had or thought he had, he managed to lose everything and turn into this bumbling mess. He had never been strong, ever. He was so fucking weak, god, how could Kurt have ever looked up to him? He began to lose himself in the song, shaking off his thoughts as best as he could, but he could feel his voice growing in emotion. The Warblers voices lifted up in fortitude behind him to support his voice and he clung to the sound, the only life raft he had in the water at this point. He poured himself into the song, the verse cutting into him like a knife. Music had always done this for him, provided something for him to hold on to.

_Tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
I want to rush to the start  
Running in circles  
Chasing tails  
Coming back as we are_

_Nobody said it was easy  
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard  
I'm going back to the start_

He sung the last chorus and felt himself swaying slightly, exhausted by the song and the feelings it brought with it. He began to sing the final melodious notes as the Warblers took over the base of the song and brought it to a peak, as he sung out with everything he had in him. He felt his heart swelling painfully as he sung the very last note, and as they all came to a close together he let out a shaky breath at the fact that he had survived. David gently released his grip and Blaine quickly moved over to a nearby chair to sit down, feeling faint. He put his head between his knees and ignored the murmured whispers among the room. He heard Wes clap his hands together and begin to give feedback on the song, criticisms and praise, but Blaine knew it was just for show and a distraction. He knew as well as Wes did that they had been brilliant for their second practice, and with a few tweaks, the song would be perfect for Regionals. A part of him was ridiculously grateful that Kurt wasn't there, but the rest ached to see him again. If only he could see him, say _something_, just, if he could figure it out like Kurt said, maybe -

"Blaine? Ready to run it again?" Wes asked, his eyes kind.

Blaine nodded and stood; taking his position back up, ready to run through the song that was sure to tear through his soul before the afternoon was through. Blaine was okay with that - at least he was feeling something.


	7. Shock

**AN:** So it's totally 3:47am in Australia at the moment and i'm EXHAUSTED but for some reason, I could not stop writing and I really wanted to get this out, especially after making you all wait so long. Again, thank you all so much for the support. This story would be nothing without all of you and as much as I get frustrated with it, it has been an absolutely wonderful experience to write something that you all seem to enjoy so much. I'm almost at 100 favourites (at 99 at the moment) and I've never had anything have quite the same response.

I promise that after the next and final part (which I'm hoping to write tomorrow) I can get onto some of my other fic ideas and post things here for you all. I have so many ideas that are floating around and I can't wait to share them with you.

This has been such a wonderful way for me to get back into fic writing (not counting the other little fics I've written on the side) and it's allowed me to learn all over again what I like and don't like about my writing, and to take those things and improve on them. I have never really attempted a series and because it's set over such a short period of time it's been really difficult to get right and it's a little all over the place, but it holds a special place in my heart thanks to every single one of you.

**You are all absolutely amazing and I really hope you enjoy this part.**

* * *

Kurt shrugged off his jacket as he slid into one of his favorite booths at "Joe n' Go." He glanced around, looking for the mess of blonde hair that would bring Cooper with it, and quickly checked his phone for the time. 4:20. He'd deliberately come early in the hopes that it would calm his nervous energy. It hadn't worked.

It was a quaint little shop, but Kurt couldn't help feeling slightly uneasy at being in a different coffee shop – in being in a coffee shop at all without Blaine. Sure, he would sometimes catch up with Mercedes, or if he was slightly desperate for company, he'd call up Rachel and see her, let her ramble about Finn and how her voice had "really progressed lately, it has so much more strength behind it than I ever thought possible, I really feel I've surpassed the rest of the glee club even more so lately", but he had grown used to associating coffee purely with Blaine and their regular trips to the Lima Bean.

He had grown accustomed to the way they would drive there together, sometimes taking Blaine's car, sometimes taking his. They would meet at the car park and Blaine would grin at him – reaching out to take Kurt's bag, even when Kurt protested, and they would walk towards whoever's car, Kurt trailing slightly behind just so that he could let the huge smile that was sitting on his lips break free without getting caught out.

They would play Kurt's iPod because Blaine refused to share his anymore as it was filled with some highly embarrassing songs, after a half hour conversation about why on earth Blaine needed Cotton Eyed Joe on his iPod had left him red-faced, and they would sing along together. Blaine would make his ridiculous facial expressions, and Kurt would try not to laugh at him but fail, giggles bubbling out of him mid-lyric half the time, and when their voices were hoarse they would tell each other funny or dramatic stories about their day. When they finally sat down to drink their drinks, Kurt was always amazed that they still hadn't run out of things to say.

It was a ritual, and it had gotten Kurt through the tougher days, where homesickness or generally just feeling a little down riddled him. Knowing that at the end of it all – he was going to be able to get away from it all for a little while was his biggest comfort. Blaine had always been an escape, and now he was the one thing Kurt was trying to escape from. The irony wasn't lost on him.

Kurt was shaken from his daydreams when he heard a voice speak his name.

"Kurt?"

Kurt raised his head to meet the eyes of the person who had questioned him and he smiled gently at Cooper, a mess of blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

"Cooper, hey!"

He stood up awkwardly, and went to hold his hand out for a handshake. He immediately felt like the biggest idiot to ever exist. Cooper glanced down at his hand and burst into laughter, and Kurt could feel his face get hot. Cooper gently took his hand, but instead of shaking it, raised it to his lips and with an exaggerated bow, kissed his hand. Kurt's cheeks burnt even hotter and he looked away, unable to meet Cooper's eyes.

"Wow, I am ridiculous." Kurt said, slightly breathy and still avoiding his eyes.

"I'd say kind of adorable, but ridiculous works." Cooper smiled, digging his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Did you want to get something to drink?"

Kurt looked up, still blushing slightly and nodded. He walked with Cooper over to the counter and began to glance over the board, pondering what to drink. Suddenly, the usually simple question became so much more complicated – would he try to kiss Kurt? Should he drink something with peppermint? Or should he wait to see what Cooper orders and then go from that? Oh god, _pull yourself together Kurt,_ _you already made an idiot of yourself, how much worse could it get? _ He shook himself slightly in a desperate attempt to shake off the nerves that were plaguing him for no reason and finally realized that Cooper had asked him a question.

"Kurt?"

"Sorry?"

"I was just wondering – well, how come you were in the Lima Bean the other day if you go to school in Westerville?"

Kurt flushed red, memories flooding back of McKinley and all the friends – and not-quite-friends - he'd left behind.

"It's – it's kind of a long story. I used to go to McKinley but… some things happened and staying there just – just wasn't a good idea for me. I was just meeting a friend of mine." Kurt said softly, avoiding Coopers eyes. Sure, Cooper was a nice guy, but he sure as hell wasn't ready to talk about everything with Karofsky. That was the kind of stuff he'd only shared with a few people… and with Blaine. Kurt tried to shake thoughts of Blaine off quickly, frustrated with the fact that he couldn't go for more than two minutes without something reminding him about his best friend turned – god only knows what they were now.

Cooper seemed satisfied with his reply and didn't push the question, just nodded gently as they finally approached the barista. Kurt was relieved to have an out from the conversation as she took their orders (Kurt settling on his much loved grande non-fat mocha and Cooper ordering a simple café latte) and they stepped to the side together, Cooper drumming his fingers on the little bench as they waited.

"So what's it like being at an all boys school?" Cooper smirked. "I have to say, I'm a little bit jealous. That's a lot of eye-candy in one day." Cooper joked, grinning at Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying not to think about his own specific curly-haired candy that he had a particular sweet tooth for. "It has its perks, yes, but it's not really like that. The classes are really hard too, so I'm pretty preoccupied anyway. It's still school, you know?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean. So do you board there or…?"

"I usually go back to Lima on weekends to stay with my family for a little while but during the week, I'm all Daltons."

The barista called out their orders and Cooper handed Kurt's drink to him with a little smile that made Kurt blush slightly. They took a seat in one of the corner booths, opposite one another. Kurt flushed even redder when his knee brushed Coopers under the table. He wasn't used to this – wasn't used to wondering if everything he did, every touch or response was going to be taken as a signal because it wasn't like he had ever spent much time with anyone who was gay and actually interested in him, except for Blaine, who obviously had had _no_ interest in him whatsoever. He was always so comfortable with Blaine anyway that the little touches had never been an issue. Kurt had read so much into those tiny moments at first, but they had never made him feel nervous, they had only made him feel heat where they connected, like warm little butterflies glittering over the surface of his skin.

Cooper and Kurt talked back and forth, and Kurt learnt about his family (one sister, younger, "She is obsessed with horses and, I'm embarrassed to admit, makes me play ponies with her all the time, and I'm even more embarrassed to admit there's been times when I got way too emotionally involved", parents still together, both of them were supportive when he came out) and was surprised to find that he really enjoyed talking to him. Cooper was lovely, and funny, and gorgeous, and Kurt found himself getting more and more frustrated at the fact that he could not stop his mind from wandering all the time as Cooper talked. He'd finally found someone who was actually interested in him, could really care about him, and his brain was still stuck on someone who couldn't give two shits.

_Healthy, Kurt, really._

"So what other stuff do you do during the week? I mean, if you're boarding there, you must be pretty involved in things?" Cooper asked curiously, pushing his empty cup to the side and fiddling with the napkin slightly.

"Not much. I mostly just do homework during the week, except for –"

Shit.

_SHIT._

Kurt could feel his eyes growing to the size of saucepans as he began to piece together exactly what he'd forgotten. Kurt nearly smacked his head against the table when he realized what he'd done.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Cooper sounded genuinely worried, and Kurt felt even more horrible and even more stupid then.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry Cooper, I completely forgot that I should be at Warblers practice right now and I've already missed half of it and Wes is going to _kill_ me." Kurt blurted out breathlessly, shoving his phone into his bag and pulling on his jacket.

"Warblers practice?" Cooper raised an eyebrow in confusion as Kurt stood up from the table, turning to look at him.

"It's my show choir, and I have a solo for the first time ever and I should be there practicing it right now but I _completely_ forgot and I'm so, so sorry but I really have to go and beg for my life."

Cooper looked disappointed but he stood like a gentlemen and smiled at Kurt.

"It's okay. I'll just call you later tonight I guess." He said, shrugging.

Kurt looked at him and shifted his weight to his other foot, wondering for a moment how to leave the conversation without being horrible and rude, but Cooper gave him an out by picking up the coffee cups on the table and walking to throw them in the trash nearby. He turned around and smiled at Kurt, a genuine smile that just made Kurt feel like even more of a bailing asshole.

"Really, go, it's all good."

Kurt bit his lip and began to walk backwards towards the door, narrowly avoiding bringing a display to the ground as he called out,

"I'm really sorry, I had fun!"

Cooper laughed and just waved him on, "Go!"

Kurt turned and didn't look back as he hurried out the doors of the shop, straight onto the street and jogged towards his car, fishing for the keys in the pocket of his jacket. He unlocked the car and leapt in, wondering how fast he would be able to get back to Dalton to beg for his life. He was fairly sure the more time passed, the more likely Wes was going to admonish him for hours. The first time he'd been given a solo, and like an _idiot_, he'd completely forgotten about it. He _never_ forgot about Warblers practice, because Blaine would always –

Oh. He'd forgotten about that too. Blaine would always meet him at his door and they would walk down together, and then sit side by side, the warmth pressing next to Kurt as Blaine would make stupid jokes about Wes' relationship with his gavel that would leave Kurt stifling giggles into his hand.

He reversed out of his park, twirling the wheel to then put the car into drive and gun it towards Dalton.

Kurt made it to Dalton five minutes after practice finished. He pulled into the parking lot and nearly slammed his hand on the horn in frustration. It was at that moment that his phone buzzed, startling him as he checked the message that had come through.

_Kurt, I think we need to speak. Would I be able to meet you in your room in 10 minutes? – Wes_

Even in his state of fear and distress, Kurt had to roll his eyes at the fact that Wes had signed off his message when Wes _knew_ that Kurt had his number, and knew that his name would come up, but of course, it was Wes, and he was strange as all hell, so Kurt decided better not to question it for too long and instead just head straight up to his room, tapping out a response.

As he climbed the stairs, he felt a pit of nervousness starting to grow in his stomach. While obviously Wes wanted to talk to him about the fact that he missed practice, who knew what else might come up? He'd only just started to truly feel comfortable around Wes and now with everything that had happened with Blaine, he hadn't realized just how much the dynamics of his life and his friendships had shifted. He knew that first and foremost, they were Blaine's friends, but at the same time, he hadn't realized that he would miss them this much.

He pushed open the door to his room, kicking it shut before taking off his jacket and placing it on a hanger in the closet, smoothing out the wrinkles. He turned and sighed, stepping over to the bed and settling on it, awkwardly crossing his leg and linking his hands together over his knees.

_This is ridiculous. It's your room and he's not even here yet and you're completely uncomfortable. Nice going, Mr. Confident._

He shushed his inner monologue and was just about to reach for the copy of Vogue resting on his bedside table that he was halfway through when there was a knock at the door. He took a deep breath and stood, walking over to the door and opening it to reveal a very composed, very blank-faced Wes.

Wes opened his mouth to say something and Kurt felt his fears get the better of him.

"I'm so sorry Wes, really, I swear, I completely forgot because everything has been so messed up lately and I just had a lot of things going on so it totally slipped my mind and as soon as I realized I tried to get back in time but you know what the traffic is like somet-" He cut himself off when he realized that not only was he breathless, he was rambling.

Wes quirked an eyebrow, looking like he was trying really hard not to laugh at Kurt, which frankly, Kurt wasn't sure he appreciated in any way, shape, or form. He sighed, before stepping back to allow Wes to step into the room. He turned to close the door and resisted the urge to just bolt from the room, before turning to face Wes who still hadn't spoken. He was sitting at Kurt's desk, fiddling with the edges of a playbill that Kurt recognized as the one from the community showing of Rent with Blaine from a few weeks ago. He felt a needle thin pain flow through him, passing as quickly as it came, and he stilled it from his thoughts by moving to sit on the bed. Wes finally turned in the chair to face Kurt, folding his hands together, and suddenly Kurt felt like a naughty child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"That's only a small part of why I came here, Kurt."

Kurt could feel himself flushing slightly and he swallowed audibly, his foot beginning to jiggle anxiously. He found himself looking everywhere but directly at Wes. He had a way of looking right at a person – staring into their eyes past the point of being socially acceptable and staring hard enough that you felt as though he somehow knew all sorts of secrets about you that you had no idea existed.

"Kurt, I'm not here to yell at you."

Kurt lifted his eyes slowly to meet Wes' gaze, and for the first time he noticed the softness in his friends expression. Wes half smiled at him, his head tilted to the side and Kurt shifted to lean against the wall, crossing his legs underneath him.

"I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you properly. It's not like you to miss practice."

"I know. I never intended to. I just – made plans, and with everything else this week..."

He trailed off, unsure of what else there was to say and Wes nodded thoughtfully.

"He's been a wreck, you know."

Kurt snapped his head up from where it had been leaning back on the wall, his eyes meeting Wes' again almost instantly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He bit out, and Wes let out an undignified snort that took Kurt completely by surprise.

"Come on, Kurt. It seems like everybody knows what the real problem is between the two of you except the two of you. Thankfully, in a way, your anger towards him has helped _him_ to finally realize it. You, however, are simply trying to distract yourself with everything possible and forgetting about the things that actually matter to you in the process. Case in point, The Warblers, and most of all, Blaine."

He leant forward as Kurt opened his mouth to protest, to question, to say something – _anything _– that would stop this conversation from continuing. He hadn't met this freaky socially intuitive Therapist Wes before and frankly, if he wasn't seeing it happen, he never would've believed it.

"None of this works, Kurt. If this was how things were meant to be, then how come you're both so completely bent out of shape? You're missing practice, I see how you've been walking around here, how you _both_ walk around here, like ghosts, and for what? David and I are left with losing a friend and dealing with a shell of someone we used to know, all because of some stupid fight that was born out of the fact that neither of you have _any_ idea what you're doing."

Kurt rolled his eyes, venom on his tongue as he felt Wes' words like a slap in the face.

"I think he knows _exactly_ what he's doing, Wes. He seemed perfectly happy doing it until someone finally called him out on it."

"But you're not just _someo_-" Wes began angrily, before letting out a breath.

"Don't you get it Kurt?" He begged desperately, his voice soft as he looked straight at Kurt, sitting defiant, his chin raised in the air.

"Get what?"

Wes threw his hands up in exasperation, and Kurt blanched at the sudden movement, recoiling slightly back against the wall.

"He's in _love_ with you! He is ridiculously, hopelessly, _frustratingly_ in love with you and because he has _no_ grasp of logic or romance he has gone about it like a complete _idiot_, and not only does he think he's lost the only person he has ever genuinely had feelings for, _real _feelings, not ridiculous infantile lonely _desperate _feelings for some stupid person he's had coffee with twice, but he thinks he's lost his best friend as well, and that has reduced him to nothing. This is Blaine we're talking about, eternal charmer, confident, overexcited Blaine, and he's sitting around like you walked up to him and cut his heart out."

"How the hell can I have cut _his_ heart out when he's the one who –"

_He's in love with you._

_He's in love with you._

_He's in love with you._

Wes' words suddenly echoed in his head and Kurt stuttered to say something, anything that would make it make sense, but it was slightly difficult to form words what with the feeling of freight trains rushing through his bloodstream. Wes lent back in his chair, hand to temple as he rubbed and sighed.

"In… _love_ with me?" Kurt finally managed to choke out. His skin crawled with something that felt part fear and part bristling excitement, and his mind searched desperately for anything that would make the picture clearer, that would fit the puzzle pieces together for him in his mind. There was nothing here that made sense. They had been each other's best friends and there was a point where that line was so blurred Kurt hadn't even known where his thoughts and feelings ended and Blaine's began, but did that constitute love? How was Kurt ever supposed to know, to work anything out, when it had felt like Blaine had done nothing but pay attention to everyone except him, had done nothing but remind Kurt time and time again that Kurt was his friend, that they were such fucking wonderful friends, and god, Kurt had never realized till now how much he hated that word in the context. So many times when he had done nothing but these things, done nothing but make Kurt question himself and search for answers in empty moments.

But at the same time, as he sat there, images and memories rushing past his mind that he felt dizzy, there were all those times when Blaine did nothing and it felt like – like _everything_.

There were the little smiles where Kurt could have sworn there was a hint of something else behind it, where his mouth quirked just a little further than it normally would and his eyes said something completely different, for a moment, just a moment - until it was gone, and Blaine was back to moving, talking and chatting like nothing had been shared.

Or there were the times when Kurt would glance around the classroom out of boredom, and Blaine would be looking back, and when their eyes met Blaine would let his guard down momentarily and make some ridiculous face that he would never be caught dead doing by anyone else, but for some reason with Kurt, it was okay, because it was making them both laugh quietly, and for a moment the class wasn't so bad.

Whatever this was, whatever it had been, there wasn't really a way to define that, and Kurt just felt sick at the fact that he could barely remember why he was so angry. He took a deep breath in, and finally he could distinguish what all the feelings were that were boiling around inside of him. The moment he exhaled, he realized. The anger was just a cover. If he was angry, he could hate Blaine. If he was angry, he could be the strong, proud, I don't give a fuck about you Kurt Hummel. The moment he stopped hating Blaine, it just _hurt_. It hurt to not be friends with him, it hurt to not be able to tease him or hug him or call him or text him or joke with him or confide in him. It hurt _so_ much hating him, but it was easier than dealing with the fact that he couldn't have him. Except now, maybe that wasn't the only other option, and that left Kurt with nothing but a mixture of sadness and embarrassment.

It was all dawning on him. It wasn't about the fact that Blaine had been flirting with other boys. It wasn't about the phone number, either. It was because he was furious at Blaine for not stepping up and being honest about his emotions. He was furious at _himself_ for the exact same reason, and somehow, after the fight, they had been more honest with one another in the short, stilted snippets of conversation they had had, more honest through their body language _alone_, than any conversation prior to it all.

"Tell me you're silent because you're processing, and not because you're fuming quietly. I'm really not good at picking up on the difference."

Kurt bit his lip before smiling at Wes, blinking a few times to relieve his eyes of the extra moisture.

"How on earth did you know to say all of that, know any of this?" He asked, and Wes grinned slightly, leaning back in the chair with his hands behind his head.

"David was whinging and made me watch The Notebook with him before Warblers practice and it all sort of made sense to me. I didn't want to see you two twenty years from now standing around in the rain and only getting your act together once one of you built a house and you two finally stopped being the most stubborn, idiotic people on the planet."

Kurt laughed, and the sound was so foreign coming out of his mouth that he felt himself tense.

"Anyway, Kurt. I don't know what you're thinking and I don't want you to feel like you're expected to forgive Blaine if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, and I think he's punishing himself more than you ever would have wanted, no matter how much you might hate him."

Wes stood suddenly and Kurt stood with him, unsure of what to say. He stepped forward, clapping a hand on Kurt's shoulder before he made a move for the door. He was about to open the door when he turned, hand gripping the handle tightly, and he spoke, hesitance across his face.

"Whatever you do choose to do, just – do it soon. I don't think he can take much more."

He opened the door and suddenly, he was gone, and Kurt was standing in his room in silence, while his head was everything but. He jolted ridiculously when his phone suddenly began to ring, and he fumbled to pull it out of his pocket, answering without glancing at the caller ID as shock flowed through his veins.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kurt, It's Cooper."

_Crap. Cooper._

"Hey! Um. Sorry about this afternoon." Kurt moved to his bed, sitting on the edge jittery and frustrated. This was _not_ where he wanted to be, not what he wanted to be doing. Cooper was lovely and wonderful and probably one of the nicest, most normal guys he'd ever met, and on top of all those brilliant things he was actually gay, and on top of that, interested in Kurt, but he wasn't Blaine, and that was enough to make everything that was right about Cooper just feel a little wrong, and right now Kurt just wanted to go and tell Blaine everything, tell Blaine _anything_.

"No worries, really. I just wanted to ask though, are you okay?"

Kurt was a little taken aback.

"Am I okay?"

"I just mean, like, you seemed a little, um, distracted, and that was before you realized about forgetting your choir thing."

"God, Cooper, I'm so sorry."

"You already apologized, it's really fine."

"No, not about that. _God_. God damnit."

"Uh, Kurt? I'm a little lost."

"Cooper, you are fantastic. Seriously. There should be a limit on your fantasticness because it's dangerous. But unfortunately and at the same time somewhat wonderfully for me, I'm in love with an absolute idiot and I kind of just found out that he loves me back and the whole loving me back thing was cancelled out by the fact that he is a complete and utter moron."

Cooper let out a little awkward laugh and Kurt hit his palm against his head in frustration. He really needed to work on the rambling thing.

"Basically, what I'm trying to say is, I was distracted because my entire life without him in it is basically one big distraction from the one thing that really matters to me, and I'm so sorry, because I really wanted to like you like that, but I just can't, I'm so sorry, really."

"Kurt, it's okay. Seriously. We had one semi-date. You're really cool and that's why I wanted to make sure you were okay, but I kind of got the feeling that you weren't quite interested."

"That's one way to put it. Thank you Cooper, really, it was kind of you to call."

"I just have one more question though."

"Mmm?" Kurt waited, impatient, his foot tapping a little harder against the floor.

"If you just found out that he loves you back, what the hell are you doing talking to me still?"

Kurt let out a breathy little laugh, before croaking out, "Goodbye, Cooper!"

He heard the last of a laugh burst out from the phone as he ended the call, throwing his phone onto the bed, before he raced to the door, slamming it behind him as he headed towards Blaine's dorm room, carried by a sick, nervous excitement and a heartbeat that felt strong, and most of all, _ready_.


	8. Beginnings

**A/N: **We're here! Yay! Here is the final part to the series. I'm in shock that I actually finished a series, but it's truly all thanks to you guys. Your support and love and advice throughout all of this has made me fall in love with writing again and you honestly have reminded me of a lot of things I'd forgotten. You are all so fantastic and I can only hope you'll enjoy the work I do in the future (trust me, you won't be waiting long!)

It's written from both Kurt and Blaine's point of view but mostly from Kurt's, as the oneshot was originally from Kurt's point of view.

As I was writing this final part I found that a mix starting taking shape and haunting me, so as a little present to you guys, I've created an accompanying mix for the story which you can download at the link below.

thiscalamity-x(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)4323(dot)html

**Thank you all so much for everything. Enjoy the last part and if you want to know anything more about the ending or have any questions or comments, please review.**

**I love you all.**

* * *

His footsteps quickened, the floor tapping out a rhythm dancing along with the words screaming in his head.

_in love with you… cut his heart out… feelings, real feelings…_

It was all so, so much, and as he rushed down the hallway, losing breath as he picked up speed, it seemed like the longest walk of his life. The only thing Kurt Hummel was sure of in this moment was that if he stopped moving, if he took even a second to question this or to plan it or to work out what he was going to say when he saw him, he was going to be stuck standing still in this hallway for the rest of his life. It took him a little while to notice that he wasn't wearing any shoes – he must've kicked them off somewhere during his conversation with Wes, and he almost laughed out loud at the dramaticness of it all, but he understood it now. He _understood_ the rushed cab rides to airports, the drunken three a.m. confessions, pushing through crowds of people and screaming it from the rooftops kind of love, because if you didn't do those things, if you didn't let go and just go for it, there was the risk of it slipping between your fingers. There was the risk that logic would get in the way and suddenly the moment would be gone.

Kurt had been grasping at straws for so long, desperate to find something that would confirm one hundred percent for sure that Blaine cared just as much about him as he did about Blaine. He had always thought it would be through a kiss, or a huge romantic speech, where Blaine would tell him how much he desperately needed him forever and ever. It had never occurred to him that maybe it was up to him to have the courage to do either of those things. He had always quietly expected the fairytale to play out with him as the one being rescued because for so long he had been the victim, and Blaine had done just that. He would never admit it to anyone but himself – he was independent, and stubborn as hell, but he had wanted that fairytale more than anything. Blaine had swept in and for a while been everything he thought he needed, and it was only now, after seeing all the flaws laid out on the table that Kurt realized they were on an equal footing, and that there was nothing to stop him from sweeping Blaine off _his_ feet. He never would've guessed that the thing that would bring them together the _most_ was what happened to them both when they were apart, but it made sense. You never know what you've got until it's gone, right?

In a way, while Kurt had thought Blaine was the idiotic one, the one who couldn't see what was right in front of him the whole time, there were so many things Kurt had been missing. His expectations were so different that he ignored anything Blaine did that didn't conform to them – he expected the clean-cut romance, the softly spoken confession, the chaste kiss, and the comfortable relationship. He'd never been _anything_ close to love before, only infatuation, and it wasn't till now that he realized that it never, ever works like that.

He knew now, though. Love is _messy_ and angry and painful because it's the only thing in the world that makes every emotion burn a thousand times stronger. Every hurt is a knife, every touch is a song, and that's why it's so wonderful and so terrible all at the same time. The hug they had shared in the bathroom, the way it had coursed fire and ice through his veins and the way he had wanted to cling to Blaine forever but at the same time push him far enough away that he'd never have to look at him again, _that was what love was about_, about the internal battle between fear and want. God, they'd both been so _stupid_.

* * *

Blaine closed his eyes again, lying on his bed with his headphones in. He'd been listening to a carefully constructed playlist of his most depressing songs in an attempt to get it all out of his system - to start to get over it all. He would get over it. Eventually.

It was all so fucking frustrating, but so _typical_ of him. He had always screwed things up, with his temper or his actions, and it was typical that he would screw up the thing that was the most important to him. He'd thought that by doing everything he'd done, he _wouldn't_ screw any of it up. He wouldn't screw up the friendship, wouldn't screw up _Kurt_ by being with him and then hurting him or doing something dumb and making Kurt hate him, which would in turn screw Blaine up even more. Now here they were anyway, ten times worse than anything Blaine had ever anticipated, heading towards never speaking again. _God, he was so fucking stupid._

All he'd ever wanted to do was make things stay the way they were, but that was to protect Kurt, to protect himself, to be pathetic and selfish and scared and to stay as he was, the charming perfectly happy to be alone Blaine that everyone at this school knew. That's who he'd always been. He would shove his emotions down, because in his family, emotion was not only a big no-no but to his father, just one more thing that made him even more explicitly his disappointingly gay son.

Every time Blaine truly got angry, he would drive for hours and contemplate swerving off the road, into the trees, out of spite and anger and _exhaustion_.Keeping up this façade, being the person everyone expected him to be exhausted him. Then out of nowhere, he'd looked up on the staircase one day and there was a beautiful boy standing looking straight back at him and straight through him.

He'd _finally_ been able to be himself, to be whoever he wanted to be with Kurt, and even when they disagreed on things he knew it was only because Kurt knew more than he really wanted him to – he'd let him in too far, and there was always the danger that one day Kurt would turn around and be disappointed in him too, and now he was.

He heard a quiet tap on the door through John Mayer crooning (_when you're dreaming with a broken heart, the giving up is the hardest part) _and paused it, waiting to see if they'd knock again. It was probably David, or Wes coming to check on him, and he didn't want their pity anymore because this was _his_ fault, as well meaning as it may be.

But then, he heard Kurt call out, and he was up at his door before he knew he was moving, ripping his headphones out of his ear on the way.

* * *

When Kurt finally reached Blaine's door, the moment of doubt he'd been dreading reared it's ugly head. He stared at the wood, fear pulsing through his veins.

_What if Wes had been wrong? What if Wes had been exaggerating? _

_What if once again, he was reading every single signal incorrectly? _

It didn't matter, he realized, because if he didn't do this now, if he didn't do this for _himself_, he was going to go crazy. It wasn't like things could get any worse between them. He had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth when he opened the door or where this conversation would leave them, but he had to try.

He lifted his hand to rap on the door twice, impatient and desperate. There was nothing but silence for a moment, no movement in the hallway, and he turned away from the door in a moment of abject terror. He lent against it momentarily, before scolding himself, _turn the fuck around and try again, Kurt_, and he turned, his hand tapping once more.

"Blaine? …Blaine? It's me, please, open th-"

The door swung open to Blaine, a Blaine that Kurt had never seen before. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he looked like he'd been crying for quite a while. His tie was loose around his neck and his shirt rumpled, the white sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was ungelled, messy and curly and just a little bit everywhere. His pants were wrinkled like he'd slept in them and his white socks were pushed down and slightly dirty, as he stood gazing up at Kurt.

They stood there, staring at one another for a moment, and Kurt opened his mouth to speak but there was nothing to say. There were no words for what this was, what it had been, what it _could_ be. Instead, he inched forward slightly into the doorway, stepping closer to Blaine who said nothing, just watched Kurt with waiting eyes, searching for what this all meant. Kurt turned momentarily to shut the door, then turned back, his eyes prickling with tears and anticipation and fear and wonderment at the broken down pieces of Blaine standing small in front of him.

He took another step towards him, and Blaine watched him curiously. Something was burning in the air, a tension, and in that moment when their eyes connected suddenly Kurt knew he didn't need to say anything. _Blaine knew_. Finally, they were nearly nose-to-nose with one another, and there was no way Kurt could move any closer without pushing Blaine in the opposite direction. Kurt watched as Blaine's eyes started to water right in front of him and before he knew what he was doing, before he even had the chance to push himself to do it, he had brought his hand up to the side of Blaine's face, crashing their lips together.

Blaine stumbled backwards from the sudden force, gripping onto Kurt for gravity and Kurt moved with him, their teeth clacking against one another awkwardly as Kurt backed Blaine up against the wall. His tongue traced the bottom of Blaine's lip and Blaine inhaled sharply, deepening the kiss. Blaine's hands were instantly up at Kurt's face, holding him close, and Kurt could feel Blaine crying, shuddering slightly underneath him. It just gave him a rush of want, wanting to pull Blaine closer, kiss him harder, drag him down into everything Kurt was feeling until he understood that it was okay now, they were going to be okay. He could feel his own tears welling up as they moved against one another, and he pulled back to mumble between kisses words of comfort. Kurt moved closer into him, leaning entirely onto Blaine and Blaine moved to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist, clutching tightly, but the desperation was softened. It was still a need, a want, but the fear was disappearing from his grip and Kurt sighed softly into the kiss in relief.

When he finally pulled away from Blaine, one hand still resting on his cheek, he intertwined his free hand in Blaine's and squeezed. As he brushed away a leftover tear on Blaine's cheek with his thumb, Blaine turned his head into Kurt's palm and closed his eyes. Kurt felt an ache spread through his body at the way he had tortured Blaine, tortured _himself_ through all of this, when all he'd needed to be was here, right here, and they could've made this right so long ago if they'd just talked and been honest like they'd always promised each other to be.

"It's okay." Kurt said, and Blaine's eyes fluttered open to gaze at him.

"Blaine, it's okay. It's _okay_."

It was unbearable, watching Blaine fall apart in front of him when all he wanted to do was put him back together, and he gently pulled him towards the bed, releasing his hand to lie with his back to the headboard and shuffling over to make room for Blaine, gesturing for him to sit. Blaine crawled over on the bed next to him and they sat, looking at one another for a moment. Kurt reached his hand out to intertwine it again with Blaine's, and Blaine opened his mouth to speak, hesitant.

"I don't understand – I – I thought you hated me. I was such an asshole and you were so mad, and I just –"

Kurt tugged Blaine gently and let go of his hand to wrap his arm around his waist, holding him close. Blaine dropped his head to Kurt's shoulder, inhaling deeply. He smelt like peaches and fresh laundry and Kurt, the Kurt he hadn't even been able to look at, the Kurt who had been so angry, had hated him so much, the Kurt he had hurt so badly, who was now sitting here, holding_ him_, comforting _him_. Blaine always knew Kurt was the better man, but this just proved it. Kurt could feel Blaine breathing gently at his side, and he leant his head to rest it on top of Blaine's hair.

"I didn't hate you, god, I spent the entire time wishing I could, Blaine, but I can't. I needed time to realize some things, and I don't think you'll be offended when I say I think you did too."

Blaine nodded numbly, closing his eyes, content to just listen to Kurt speak and to drown in his voice. He'd never known you could miss a voice so much.

"I was scared, and I was angry, because you were the first chance at happiness that seemed real to me, and you were open and welcoming and I really thought you wanted to be with me, and then everything – everything else happened, and it tore me to shreds because it was like 'Here's someone who's gay, like you, who makes you happy, who's been flirting with you, and after all that, they still don't want you either.' At first I was just so _angry_ at you for doing that to me, for making me feel like I wasn't good enough for you after everything we had been through, but I realized the only person I should be angry at was _myself_ for letting you do that to me."

"God, I'm so sorry Kurt, I just –"

"I'm not finished, Blaine. The thing was though, I was never _really_ angry. It was just easier to be angry than to face how much it all hurt. I wanted you so badly, Blaine, because when I'm with you things feel a little better for me, and I feel stronger, and happier, and I feel okay, sometimes when I'm with you is the _only_ time I feel okay. So for me to see that, to go through that, it broke my heart." Kurt's breath hitched as he started to tear up. "But I needed that. It showed me that I don't need someone who doesn't need me."

Blaine looked up at this, tearing his head from its place on Kurt's shoulder to stare at him, his eyes wet, searching. He moved to pull away slightly from Kurt. _After all of this?_ After coming here, and kissing him, and making him feel all the things he'd been so _terrified_ to feel, after all of that, he was going to leave Blaine? This time though, it would be even worse than before, because he would know so well what he was losing, and this time, he would be losing something he never even dreamed he could actually _let_ himself have. Kurt wouldn't let him move away, however, and he gently pulled Blaine back towards him, tightening his grasp on his waist and moving to rest their foreheads together.

"Then I realized that you _do_ need me, Blaine. You need me to tell you when you're being an idiot, and I need you to tell me when I'm being a bitch. You need me to make you face your crap, and I need you to make me face mine. We need each other, as equals. This isn't an either or, Blaine, _this is it_. This is it for me. I need you, and I want you, and I don't want to run from that anymore just because it's going to be hard, and scary. We're going to hurt each other, but isn't that inevitable when you –" he swallowed audibly, eyes never leaving Blaine's, "when you love somebody?"

Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt opened his mouth to continue, to tell him he didn't expect him to say anything back because the fact that they were here, that this was happening at all for him, that was enough, but before he could speak Blaine was pressed flush against him once more, moving so quickly that Kurt was nearly knocked sideways into the wall his bed was against. He quickly regained his balance and pressed back into the warmth, their bodies and mouths moving against one another, messy and wonderful. Even though Blaine had been so broken down, his grasp on Kurt's waist was how Kurt remembered it - strong and calming. He inhaled deeply as Blaine's stubble grazed his chin slightly and he found himself hit with a rush of tingly excitement. Kurt was so wrapped up in the moment that he almost didn't notice Blaine start to shudder again underneath him, but when he did his excitement was replaced with dread.

_No, no, it's okay, why are you crying, fuck, I shouldn't have said anything - _

He grabbed Blaine's shoulders and pushed him back gently from the kiss to search his face, to ask why he was crying and to try to understand what he'd done wrong, but he was in shock at what he saw in place of tears.

_Blaine was laughing. _

His shoulders were shaking with each wave of laughter that burst out and his face looked ready to split in two, eyes wet with tears but bright to match his smile. Kurt moved to push him away further, this time with a roughness as he felt a surge of anger roll through him. _How could he?_ Kurt just told him he loved him, and he was _laughing_ at him? Kurt had spent his entire life with people laughing at him for the way he was, for being honest about how he felt and acting on it, and now Kurt had been honest with the person he never would've thought would do such a thing, and he was basically wetting himself.

Mid-shove, however, Blaine scrambled towards Kurt as he choked slightly on air, heaving with giggles as he tried to pull him towards him. The ensuing scramble was not pretty, as Blaine tried desperately to scoot closer to Kurt who squirmed like an irritable child in Blaine's grasp.

"Oh god, Kurt, no, don't be like that, I'm not laughing at you, I swear, it's just -"

Blaine dissolved into giggles once more, clapping a hand to his mouth in the process in an attempt to cover his amusement. Kurt turned away from him, fixing his eyes at a spot on the wall as Blaine began to nuzzle against the side of his face. It was hard to keep his focus as Blaine began to press soft little kisses to his cheek and neck, but each kiss was punctuated with a ripple of laughter and he could feel Blaine smiling broadly against his cheek.

He felt his own mouth begin to quirk at the corner regardless of his frustration, because just hearing Blaine laughing the way he was, pure and bubbly made his heart swell slightly. It felt like it had been weeks since he had heard Blaine laugh, and the sound was bright and sweet in his ears. He fought to stop himself from giving in to his desire to turn his head and kiss Blaine again because he still hadn't said anything about what Kurt had said, and in Kurt's opinion that was far too anticlimactic a love confession at this point. _But_ if there was anything this entire situation had taught Kurt, it was that you didn't always know the whole story, and that expectations meant nothing – _were_ nothing – compared to the real thing.

"Kurt, please, look at me?" Blaine finally calmed down slightly, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes before moving to put a hand to Kurt's chin, tilting his head back towards him. Blaine was still smiling; his eyes gentle and warm as he spoke, and Kurt did his best not to look Blaine in the eye, trying to ignore him as he waited passive-aggressively for an explanation.

"Kurt, I'm going to need you to look me in the eyes for _just_ one second because I've been thinking about saying this for a really, really long time, before I even knew I _wanted_ to say it, and saying it while you're not even looking at me wasn't quite how I wanted it to go down."

Kurt's eyes flicked to Blaine's silently, his lips still pressed together in a thin line. Blaine grinned a little wider when Kurt met his eyes, before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Kurt's lips. Kurt inhaled softly, clamoring for air as he tried to force enough oxygen into his brain to remind him that he was still a little pissed off, but all he could feel and taste was Blaine, soft and warm against his mouth. When Blaine pulled away, his cheeks were tinged slightly pink and he had a faraway look in his eyes as he leant his forehead against Kurt's.

"I love you too, okay? I was laughing because – I'm such an idiot. I have no idea what I was thinking – I _wasn't_ thinking – and you were there and you were perfect and I screwed everything up, and you were kind of right to call me a slut, I was sort of being one, and even after _all of that_, you're here, and I can't believe I was dumb enough in the first place to even think for a second that this wasn't exactly where I was meant to be. It's so funny to me that we went through all of this because you're stubborn and I don't think things through and I think we've been a thousand times more emotional and dramatic about all of this than that girl you've told me about – Rachel?" Blaine shook his head, trying to remember everything he had wanted to say, and he took a deep breath before launching back into his speech.

"It just kind of hit me all at once that this is happening for me, which in itself is ridiculous because _I'm_ ridiculous. I couldn't be happier, Kurt. Really."

Kurt couldn't help but soften as Blaine earnestly babbled, clutching Kurt's hand in his own and entwining their fingers. He was lit up, face still slightly damp from the rollercoaster ride of emotion he had just jumped off. Blaine wiggled his legs closer to Kurt's as he spoke, gently rubbing one of his sock-covered feet against Kurt's affectionately. Blaine just wanted every part of him that _could_ touch Kurt to _be_ touching Kurt, to make up for the fact that he hadn't even been able to look at him in far too long.

Kurt shifted slightly next to him and Blaine lifted his arm up to wrap it around Kurt's shoulders, pressing a warm kiss to the top of his head, before playing gently with part of his hair. Kurt slapped his hand away playfully, but blinked up through his lashes to smile at Blaine.

"You're right, you know. You're definitely kind of ridiculous." One side of Kurt's mouth quirked higher as he spoke and Blaine smirked before kissing him on the nose with an exaggerated smooching noise, causing Kurt to scrunch his face up slightly.

"You love me anyway though."

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine, who was staring at him eagerly with a tender smile on his face, and he just knew.

Here was what he'd been looking for.

He had been searching for clues and hoping desperately and wishing all the time and even though the road to here hadn't been particularly pleasant, Kurt had ended up where he needed to be. He was now being held by the one person he trusted more than anything, the one person who he now trusted _more than ever_. He was being held by the one person he was willing to hurt for, to fight for, to fight with, and to love. Kurt knew now, after everything that had happened. This was what it was about. This boy, this love, everything it was right in this moment and everything it was going to become in the future.

It wasn't going to be easy - they both knew that now - but what they also knew was that it was going to be worth every second.

"You know what?" Kurt mused happily, "I really, really do."


End file.
